Days of Rain
by gladheonsleeps
Summary: Sequel to Hel's Quest. Thor tries to get his emotions out of control as his family try to mend ancient fractures before it is too late. Everyone learns a little more about magic as Darcy comes into her powers. We learn a little more about Loki's broken past. The Avengers learn to work with Loki's oddball family. The women are all BAMFs as per usual. Gratuitously off canon.
1. Prologue

Prologue.

The air sizzled and cracked as lightning split the sky. Thor stood on a beach, he knew not more than that of his whereabouts. His face crusted with salt as he wept and emptied his lungs in cries that reached no ears but his before the wind whipped them out to sea. The gaping hole where the loss of his brother had lain had but little filled since he learned of his survival. If indeed survival was a word one could use for the situation Loki had been in. Jane had told Thor of the Midgardian Christian theory of hell, and that sounded more akin to what his brother had experienced. To die, and then see something as sweet as one's daughter. To be wrenched back to a place where you are tortured incessantly for ones apparent misdemeanours. Yes, that would describe it. And where was he? He who had promised to always be there for Loki, to always come for him? He was on Midgard, playing at love with the beautiful mortal Jane Foster. Sitting idle while his brother was burned and destroyed form the inside to his very bones, his very mind invaded and his identity mined for pain. He screamed once more into the ocean before him.

A thousand possibilities flew through Thor's head. What if Hel's powerful spell hadn't worked? What if Thanos had captured Sif as well? What if pursuit had found Sif along the way? _And how could he have not known?_ Thor had always felt so sure of his closeness to Loki, the moon to his sun, the ice to his fire. He groaned at the last thought. Ice... The fact that he had turned out not to be a son of Odin at all had mattered not to Thor in the end, they had too much love, too much history for that. But he had believed so much in his own love that he had never seen how his brother had suffered. Darcy's hastily and scathingly told tale had kept him awake at night, repeating over and over in his head. The girl hadn't meant to cause him pain, but the story had had its desired effect: it woke Thor up to his own blindness. Hel had further opened his eyes. Thor, so sure in everyone's love for him, had never stopped to think about the effect that had on his brother. Not thinking of the damage that happened when one spent too much time in the sun.

A large wave broke on the rock he was standing on, soaking him through and bringing him out of his gloomy self thoughts. Even now, Thor thought of his own feelings instead of Loki's needs. His niece was right, he needed to think of the future. Not only for his brother, but for all in the Nine Realms. He needed a plan, something to do. He would visit his father, and then his niece. He would take himself away from Loki and give him space, and hopefully lay the ground for their success in the future.

...

Helen Lokisdottr, Mistress of Souls stood on the black cliffs of Helheim, looking over the great salty lake of her realm. The weather had been cooling of late, something the Jotann in her was grateful for. Her skirts and cloak moved around her in the salty wind, and she rather enjoyed the drama of it all as she contemplated the future of the realms. Her Uncle, she knew, had been visiting his father in the Realm Eternal. They had discussed at length tales of Loki's misfortunes and mistakes but also his victories. They discussed Thanos and the probability of attacks on their realms vs. the others. They discussed the probability of Loki's betrayal. Or, in Odin's opinion, the inevitability. Her lip curled in distaste at Odin's blind prejudice. She honestly had no idea how her father had survived Odin's awful fostering. Sure, he was maybe a little mad after all of the messes of his life, but one could hardly blame him for that. Everything he had been lead to believe had been exactly the opposite of the truth. Instead of training Loki to use his difference as a strength, he was taught to revere everything he wasn't, and to despise everything that he was- including his heritage. Odin couldn't have done a better job at ruining someone with the mental prowess of her father if he had tried. It was almost as if he meant to do just that, as much as he kept insisting the opposite. Perhaps the abuse was subconscious, due to his own insecurities about his own Jotann heritage. Perhaps Odin was scared because as Loki had grown Odin had seen more and more of himself in his Jotann changeling. Attributes that Odin had pridefully declared strengths of Asgard were, in fact beautiful inheritances from his own mother, herself half frost giantess. Proof of Odin's mixed parentage, laid out for all with the right knowledge. As the lost prince of Jottenheim grew, so did the fractures in the foundations of Odin's pure hatred of Laufey and his kind, making them and him unstable. These savages were not savages at all but cunning, startlingly creative and powerful beings, and kin to himself. He had been given a gift, in Loki, and Asgard could have _thrived_ with it. Oh, but his internalised racism won out and took away any chance for either Odin or Loki.

Hel sighed at the thought of how beautiful it could have been. Loki was clearly Frigga's favourite child, she who saw far farther than any around her. What would have happened if Odin had embraced him as his favourite also? The possibilities stretched out, with Thor and Sif as Loki's support, the kingdom could have been incredible. Hel bared her teeth and pulled her eyes away from the horizon before her. She had no time for daydreaming, things had not gone that way and they must play with the hand they'd been dealt. She felt a tingling in her perception and frowned, her Uncle had decided to pay her a visit.

She _turned_ into her office, losing her coat as she moved, then ringing the bell and asking for coffee for two once she was there. Shortly thereafter Thor strolled through her office door as only Thor could. If she had not seen the two weeks of weeping and crying into the wind her uncle had partaken in recently, she would never have believed it. Asgard had always had that effect on Thor, while it had always drained Loki of his vitality and goodness it fed Thor's. It was strange, how opposite the two could be. She turned her head to the side, inspecting the Golden Prince. Maybe it had to do with their magic. She'd been studying magic lately, and the Jotanns had a very different type of magic to that of Asgard or Muspelheim. She could feel the fire glow and spark within her even as she felt the ice receding. She filed that information away for later and gave Thor an insincere smile. "Uncle, have a seat. Do forgive me for I have much work to do." She shuffled some papers for effect. A very interesting report from one of her spies on Knowhere that she had been reading before she left to get some air. "Tell me, what brings you back to my humble realm?"

Thor sat heavily, deflating a little at her question. "I have come to you to seek advice."

Hel's mouth turned upwards in a smile of true delight. Well. This was a lovely surprise.


	2. Chapter one

Darcy Lewis was exhausted. Her neck ached and hands shook a little as she cut a thumbnail's breadth of ginger root into tiny pieces. The med lab was silent and mostly dark around her. The second prince of Asgard lay behind her on one of the beds, deeply asleep though clearly suffering through some hell in a dream. It had been three weeks since Sif had brought him to the tower, and he had not woken up yet, stuck in some world of his mind's own making. Queen Frigga had told her that his complex mind needed some time to order itself, but Darcy was pretty sure that the nightmares weren't helping. No- they definitely weren't helping. The constant moving about that he was doing were his bones from mending, and a few of his cuts kept opening. At the very least, he needed a break so that he could be still and his body could finish recovering. She didn't really know how she knew these things, but she knew them. Ever since Fenrir's brother had come to visit things had been changing inside of her. Or, maybe not changing, it's like she woke up and saw things that were always there for the first time. All of the theory she had studied with Frigga suddenly made sense on a deeper level, and she could feel Loki's unrest as sell as she could see his shaking and hear his pained moans.

Jormungand had turned up in Stark's elevator out of nowhere on the day after Loki and Sif arrived. The Avengers had been pretty wrecked from the night before, mooching around and making breakfast. The sudden appearance of another alien really brought conversation to a standstill. Darcy laughed at the memory. It wasn't like everyone in the initiative wasn't used to seeing beautiful people. They were all gorgeous. But Loki's older son was even more otherworldly than his siblings, and more beautiful. Darcy had realised why he tended to stay on the farm, rather than hang out in a busy city like New York. He kind of stood out. He was tall. Taller than Thor, and had silver hair plaited in a long rope right down his back. His eyes were violet, like his mother's, but his skin was that of his father's; pale as a porcelain doll. He was dressed down, with dirt under his fingernails and wearing a skate t-shirt, a waistcoat that was probably more than a hundred years old and faded high waisted jeans, with an orange Norse Projects beanie. He looked like he should be in Paris walking the runway, a muse to someone like Karl Lagerfeld or Alexander Wang. The armfuls of flowers he was carrying with his grey marle coat added to the whole delightful picture. Clint had stared the most, all his barely repressed Lord of the Rings fan hood breaking loose with the tiniest of squeaks and a blush that painted his neck red. Finally Cap had found his voice and asked if maybe he would like some coffee. Jormy had been totally cool and helped set the table as Cap and Natasha finished making pancakes.

He'd pulled Darcy aside as soon as was polite and asked after his father, finally allowing the stress to show in his eyes. When he touched Darcy lightly on her arm she felt a warm pulse of power that she'd never had with either Hel or Fenrir. It travelled right to her fingertips and up to her scalp and she frowned a little but filed it away for later when she was talking to Frigga. She led him down to the med lab to see his dad and watched him fuss, tucking Loki's blankets around him and stroking his hair. She watched as the air around Loki sort of glowed a little more green and the strain that had been on his face in sleep relax, the twitch of his fingers slowing. The air smelled pleasantly of mint and eucalyptus and she realised it was Loki's magic waking up. She looked down at her hands and saw a light pink glow, the tiniest scent of bubblegum in the air. Or was it peaches? Her eyebrows pulled together and she hid her hands behind her back. Weird.

Jormy hadn't returned since then. It turned out he kind of couldn't teleport like the others could. Something about a totally different kind of magic or something. So he had to drive in with Fen in the morning but he couldn't do that because the flowers needed him to tend them. Apparently his magic had a lot to do with how successful they were, especially in the endless rain. When Loki had been stirred up with nightmares Darcy had totally wished that he was there to do that calming thing he had done. She stood by the bed watching Loki move around with his injuries and tried to remember if he's done anything she could see. She remembered the pink glow on her hands, thinking about how it had felt and it came back. She put her weirdo glow hand on Loki's forehead and he seemed to settle after that. She hoped she hadn't done anything wrong. She checked over him again. His burns were mostly gone, and the cuts and gashes were all pink and healing nicely. He didn't need bandages except where the shackles and collar were. It was weird but those wounds didn't seem to be healing at all. As he grew restless again throughout the week she could only sometimes get the glowy thing to work, so she sang the only lullaby she knew, which wasn't a lullaby at all but an old Jazz song. But hey, she figured, Loki's daddy was rich and his momma was super good looking so it totally worked. It somehow seemed to work anyway, so there was that. Yay Ella Fitzgerald.

Before her on the bench she had a little bit of a potion brewing that she had found in a book Frigga had lent her. It was for pleasant dreams, more specifically for fond and pleasant memories, and Darcy was endeavouring to make it up for Loki. Its scent of rose and lavender and Muspelhiem sage filled the lab as it bubbled away merrily. There were some pretty weird recipes in the book, but this one was fairly simple and the weirdest thing in it was one of his eyelashes, which she had totally found on his cheek so she didn't even need to steal it. Explaining that one to Hogan would have been weird. Explaining anything to Hogan was weird. He gave like no reaction to anything, unless you were in trouble and then you'd know about it only because he had his mace in his fist or an axe blade to your throat. Darcy stole a look over her shoulder at the guard. He was standing statue still outside the door with his back to the room. That had to be a tough gig, especially for Sif, who Darcy could tell was still recovering from all the time in space. She did the day shifts, Hogan standing guard during the night. They didn't move or eat or anything for like twelve hours a day, and didn't really show any signs of fatigue at all when they finished. Darcy had heard of all of the damage that Sif had done at the gym in the evenings when she finished her shift, like she had all this rage she wasn't allowed to express while she stood guard so she had to wreck something to make up for it. From the satisfied smirk Natasha had been wearing recently the gym wasn't the only place the warrior was letting off some steam. Darcy had been a little surprised at her own reaction – or lack thereof to that news. She didn't even feel jealous or any regret. Even though she wasn't getting any herself, she was just happy someone was.

Pulling her mind back to the little sciency setup in front of her, she lowered the heat on the glorified Bunsen burner and whispered the incantation necessary as she added her last few ingredients to her beaker and stirred. The eyelash was last and she pulled it out of the little paper envelope she had made for it so she wouldn't lose it. She'd learned that trick after Jane kept losing some of the tinier parts of her equipment in New Mexico. Once the eyelash hit the potion it did a shimmery thing, and made a cute popping noise before turning a delicate rose colour. It went from a gluggy consistency to liquid form and the smell was intensely soothing. Darcy was a little concerned that she'd fall asleep herself. After reading through the recipe one more time to make sure she wouldn't be poisoning a prince she took a dropper and measured out five ml. Taking a deep breath she walked quietly over to where Loki lay. For once his fits of movement had calmed, and Darcy wondered if the scent of the potion had worked on him a little already. She reached forward carefully, pulling his wild hair from his forehead where it had stuck there with sweat. Thankfully this was one of the potions he didn't have to swallow. She dropped the potion just above where his eyebrows met and blew on it gently, as per instructions. As it soaked into his skin he pursed his lips and breathed in deeply through his nose. When he released his breath there was a bit of pink mist on it, like breath on a cold morning in New York. His whole body seemed to relax slowly, and Darcy adjusted his position on the pillow and smoothed back his hair. "Sweet Dreams Loki." She whispered in his ear, and then left him to his memories, hoping for the best.

As she went about bottling and labelling her potion and cleaning away the mess, she heard him sigh in the silent lab, and when she turned to check on her charge she saw the tiniest smile on his lips. She grinned. It was crazy and she wouldn't admit it to anyone just yet, but she was pretty good at this. That was weird. She was so used to not being the expert that she suddenly didn't know what to do with herself.

...

Sif, Lady and Warrior of the order of Einherjar dressed by the light of a single lamp. It was early. The apartments around her echoed with what little sound she made as she prepared herself for another day of watching over a sleeping prince. Compared to the months on the move that she had just experienced, her recent days of standing watch were increasingly causing her irritation, for she was out of practice in the art of standing guard. It had been centuries since she had been set such a task. Nevertheless she would do what she was asked, there was much at stake in the prince's recovery, and she would do what she could to aid in such an important cause.

She stood in her Midgardian underthings, all lace and elastic strap that she had bought on a trip with the Widow. The woman had become fast friend and excellent sparring partner despite her human frailty, if a little too perceptive for Sif's tastes currently. In all their fourteen hundred years of friendship the warriors three had never once asked after her affair with Loki. Natasha had picked up on it in moments, and expected the full truth of the matter on their first evening that they had ended up lying together, while they were both still breathing fast, the sweat not yet cooling on their tangled forms. Sif had told her that she had no wish to speak of it under the watch of either her brother or Loki's daughter, both of whom were fully capable of overhearing and as loathe as she was to bring up such truths in any circumstance, they would not pass her lips before either one. Natasha had nodded, and asked more about Heimdall instead, wondering what he would say about Sif's friendship with her if he'd seen as much of her life as the warrior attested. Sif had answered her with a hot kiss, and only stated that if Heimdall was watching now, he'd be dead the next time she was within a sword's throw of him.

Of course, if she was honest with herself, and she rarely was when it came to Loki, she had held a soft spot in her heart for him ever since their ill fated romance. Their time together had been sweet despite its clandestine nature, and their parting was painful, but had left them with a strange little friendship that manifested in different ways over the centuries. Most precious was the fact that he had trusted her with his secret about Angrboda, having no one else to turn to. Sif had known about their illicit affair and three offspring long before the news broke out in the courts of Odin. She had done what she could to help Loki weather the storm of the wake of their discovery and Sigyn's betrayal. She helped Loki to sneak the children into the Eternal City after their mother's death in a vicious tribal clash and endeavoured to pull him out of the mire of depression he found himself in while confined in Asgard's Golden Palace. No. She had kept his secrets for centuries, and their story was so mixed up with those secrets that she could never tell. It would feel like ripping a piece from her flesh and his. It seemed, over the centuries that the longer you lived, the more secrets you kept. She sighed. Hogan would be wanting his bed, she must away. Shaking herself Sif made quick work of the rest of her clothing, bucking her armour on with a practiced hand, and sheathing her weapons. It was All Hallows Eve, a Midgardian holiday that celebrated spirits and shades coming awake for one night. Sif wondered if this was the time that the Dark Prince would choose to rejoin them in the waking world. It would definitely suit his taste for drama. Though, with recent events being what they were, maybe drama tasted a little less sweet than it once did. Switching off her lamp she took leave of her quarters and the lingering ghosts of her memories. For now, she must watch and protect. The past would be there when she chose again to revisit.


	3. chapter two

After napping on the lounge in the lab for a few hours Darcy woke up to an alarm on her phone. Time to give the sleeping prince his medicine. She looked over at him sleeping peacefully and smiled, giving herself an imaginary high five. There was already more colour in his cheeks as his body did what it couldn't while his mind was occupied with nightmares. She walked over to her 'Witchy Corner' as Tony called it, a little irritated with all her bunches of herbs and bottles of potions and equipment. He'd settled down after Bruce had told him how well all of Darcy's 'tricks' had worked. She could tell that Tony wanted in, wanted to study what, exactly she was doing, as well as Loki's alien biology but she couldn't work with a bunch of scientists watching her, or even the intern that he had pushed onto her in the first week. Nope, she needed space, as did her patient. Tony could go study something else.

She walked to her bench and started mixing up the first potion Frigga had ever taught her. It was more like a tea or tonic, really, just with a few space herbs. There were no incantations or eyes of newt or even eyelashes, which was handy because even though Loki's eyelashes were incredibly lush and made Darcy more than a little jealous, she couldn't go stealing them all. It would be a crime to the world. As she used a dropper to add precisely 12 ml of peppermint essence to the beaker and stir anticlockwise three times she felt a bony hand on her shoulder. Starting, she dropped the beaker that held the tonic, shards of tempered glass scattering across the bench and floor. She turned her head and saw a super tall God of Mischief towering above her on his one good leg, staggering slightly, his face a mask of confusion. "Hey Loki what's up?" going for the casual approach always seemed to work, right? By this time he was sort of just standing and staring at the bench where the beaker had fallen, nostrils flaring at the familiar scent.

"I thought I saw my mother." It was so quiet that Darcy didn't quite believe he said it.

"Yeah, she gave me that recipe for you so maybe it was the smell. Hey Loki why don't you sit down and I'll mix you up another?"

He did sit gingerly on the side of his bed, keeping his face composed despite his obvious pain as he stared her down, and holy shit he was really tall when he wasn't all horizontal and sleeping and stuff. "Tell me child, where am I? Who are you?" His voice was a little more firm this time, and Darcy realised he was quite lucid for the first ever since she first saw him.

She tipped her head to the side and answered him in the same friendly tone she'd used with him from the beginning, even though his green eyes held possible storms and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't a little intimidated. Where had all the air in the room gone? "Yeah I guess you wouldn't remember meeting me hey? I'm Darcy. I'm a little bit of a witch I guess? Your mom told me how do a little bit of magic so that you could get better once you got here. So... Um, don't freak out or anything but we're hiding out in the Avengers tower till you get better."

Loki's eyes hardened, clearly not too stoked about their location but he stayed pretty calm. Darcy was really glad for that, she really was. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hogan watching through the glass doors but staying put. "So I am a prisoner then?"

Darcy shook her head, feigning a casualness she didn't feel as she replied. She just kept measuring out herbs and putting them into the fresh beaker of boiling Jotann meltwater before her. She'd have to get Hel to send her some more. 'Nah, dude. So basically Sif broke you out of that sicko Thanos' place and carried you here across space." She once again added the peppermint and stirred with precise sure strokes before turning off the heat. "She had to run for a while, and when she finally turned up here and Hel begged them for sanctuary they were pretty cool with it, all things considered. Here. Can you drink this for me?"

Loki's eyed moved to the second beaker she held up and his lips pursed just like any child when facing medicine. She'd been warned he'd be petulant. "I have always detested this tonic. My mother is gone and I am still plagued with it."

"Well maybe if you didn't get so banged up you wouldn't have to drink yucky medicine. Drink." Loki rolled his eyes but took the beaker which cooled instantly in his hand. He drank it in several gulps. "Man that is so much easier than when you were asleep. Now how are you feeling? Any headaches, dizziness, anything out of the ordinary?"

Loki gave her an irritated look again. She crossed her arms and waited. She was used to petulance. She worked with Tony fucking Stark. Finally he offered "I have a thirst that several lakes could not fill. Tell me child, how long since Malekith was defeated? At least I presume he was defeated as Midgard is still standing." He looked her over like she was some prey animal and he a wild cat. "You're still standing."

Darcy paused where she was filling a glass of water and tipped her chin up defiantly. "Yeah, we beat him. Your old friend Eric Selvig had some technology that took him out. Those creepy dark elves didn't really know what hit them. It's been just under two years. You were with Thanos for a year and then Sif took seven months to escape to here."

Loki let out a breath through his nose and grimaced at the pain of his broken ribs. They were mostly repaired but had a few days to go before he could do all of his huffing and puffing without pain. It looked as if a lot of things were on his mind but all he said was "It felt like longer." Another pause as he drank his water and then, "Lady Sif came for me? Are you sure?" he huffed, again wincing at the effect on his ribs. "It all seems _very_ unlikely." Loki's face held a combination of incredulity, pain and something like an old disappointment that you hadn't thought about in a while.

Darcy wasn't going to take that shit about her girl gang though. "Look, she's a badass bitch and I'm sure she could have done it by herself and probably take out Thanos on top of it? But there was a whole _crew_ of people who got you out. Your daughter Hel is _amazing_. She planned the whole thing with some help from your mom."

Loki was quiet as he drank two more huge glasses of water. "... and Thor?"

Darcy smirked. She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "She kept it a secret from him and the idiots three, even when Thor visited her for the first time in three hundred years. Thor only found out when Sif turned up on the roof with you thrown over her shoulder and asked for a drink of whiskey. That's why it hasn't stopped raining for three weeks." Loki kept looking at her. She was really glad she was so non-threatening because he was totally having a normal conversation with her. Out of all of the reports she had had about Loki, it sounded like that was pretty unusual. He had laughed genuinely when she spoke of the idiots three but still looked incredulous.

"Where is he now? I would expect the brute to be standing over my bed." His face was full of memories again. Darcy wondered just how many times Thor had stood over Loki's sickbed in times past.

"Yeah, so Hel was pretty sure you could do without seeing him for a while, so she banned him from seeing you. Actually she had to make a deal where she wouldn't come see you either. He's been throwing a massive tantrum and it hasn't stopped raining since you got here. That's also partly why Hogan is guarding the door." She turned and waved at Hogan through the closed door. He only nodded stoically in reply.

Loki turned to stare at the warrior, who he had pointedly ignored till then. "You expect me to believe that my brother's minion is guarding me to keep _Thor out_?"

Darcy so wasn't going to tell Hel's dad about just how _that_ happened so she decided to talk her friend up instead. "Yeah, I mean, you seem to underestimate Hel's powers of persuasion. Sif's been standing watch during the day. They've actually had a few fights with Thor this week already. You slept through them of course." Darcy totally understood that Sleeping Beauty wanted the lowdown on his situation but she could see fatigue written plainly on his face. Sitting up this long was costing him. That sweet dreams spell was still in effect for another whole day probably so she decided that was enough chatting for now. She pulled out her trump card. "Hey Loki? I get that you want to catch up with everything but your boys are coming in a little later so maybe you should try and rest for a bit. Your bones are still mending and I'm sure they'll want to talk to you. They'll be so mad if they miss out because I kept you awake! Sif will also be in later and she can tell you all about how awesome she was when she saved your ass."

That got his attention. "My sons? They're coming here?" his eyes floated to the flowers placed around the room and had a tiny smile in his eyes. There had been a few deliveries with Fenrir from Jormungand throughout the time they'd been here. He'd insisted it would help and Darcy wasn't going to complain. Jormungand's flowers were the most beautiful she'd ever seen. There were even varieties here that she was pretty sure were indigenous to other planets.

She just kept talking casually. "Yeah, Fenrir's been visiting you every day, and Jormy came in and made you glow green and smell like mint again. You got better really quickly after that."

Loki was silent, his thoughts hidden. He looked down at the bed, and then paused, standing awkwardly. "I must...is there...?"

"Oh the bathroom? Yeah, over there. Here-" She passed him some crutches which he stared at until she demonstrated them. He then hobbled off, though much more gracefully than she could have with a broken femur and ribcage. He looked totally ungodlike and totally adorable with his fluffy hair and the forest green pyjamas she'd bought for him and she had to keep reminding herself to tread carefully, in an abstract sense he might be a good guy, but he was a very dangerous being.

He came back and she gave him another glass of water once he was back in bed. She noticed he's smoothed back his hair and had a chuckle at the vanity of Norse gods as she moved back to her chair. She guessed she wasn't going home this early in the morning so she'd try for another nap.

...

Loki painfully climbed back into bed as the little woman fussed about around him. She still hadn't cleaned up the glass that covered the floor and he wondered at how his mother could have put such a hapless child in charge of his care. His eyes tracked her movements, this tiny girl with a velvet bow in her hair, dressed in layers of soft black fabrics that wrapped around her neck and covered her form. It must be close to winter, then. He had wanted more answers but found his eyelids lowering against his will. His body must be truly damaged if it took this long to repair. He had peered into the looking glass in the lavatory and hardly recognised the person staring back at him, looking like some shade haunting the tower. He couldn't remember the last time food passed his lips and he was practically skeletal, his hair soft and curly where it floated around his ghostly pale face and haunted eyes. No, he didn't like his situation, an invalid at the mercy of children and those dreadful Avengers, but he felt it was probably his best choice for the moment. He wondered at his mother's agenda, but found himself slipping back into the deep slumber of the injured. He inhaled a scent of rose, lavender and sage and to his shock felt a spell pull him in. It was simple, but strong, and his last waking thought was surprise that the child must then be a real witch, but then he was asleep.

He was in a garden. It took him a moment, but he realised it was a past version of his mother's garden, from when he was little more than a child himself and in hindsight, much simpler times. Simple it may have been, but he turned a corner and found an image of his past self in tears, scrapes marred the supple leather of his leggings at his knobbly knees. Blood and torn skin covered his elbows and knuckles, his too long limbs sprawled about him in a barely contained mess. He remembered that time, when his arms and legs had grown so fast they had barely felt like they belonged to him, so rarely were they under his control. Out of all of the years on the practice fields, those were the worst, his lowest point. His voice had been breaking and his thoughts and emotions had been somehow harder to control, wildly affecting his magic as his sexuality and very identity tried to order themselves under his paper thin skin.

The primest example and the bringer of much of the chaos of the time came racing around the corner and his younger self's face was a mask of horror at being found in tears at such an age, scrubbing at his face and wincing as his hand came in contact with the black eye he was sporting. Embarrassment was such a painful thing at that time, bringing more pain than any injury or bruise. The other sons of members of the court had capitalised on his awkwardness and marked him out as the strangest, weirdest creature in court and therefore marked for punishment which happened thoroughly and often, despite the best efforts of his brother and the fierce creature before him. Sif had also grown quickly. It had happened all at once. He had grown up putting frogs in her hair and snails on her lunch plate and then she had suddenly very much been a girl, with girl parts and eyelashes and a new scent and soft lips that he kept catching himself staring at. She stood now over him with the sun shining behind her and Loki remembered the strength of awe and bewilderment he had felt in her presence then. Who was this new creature before him? Her eyes were shining like they always did after she won a fight, and she smiled a smile full of teeth, the smile of a predator, and definitely not that of a lady of the court. "Loki why are you hiding? That pig who insulted you has run off to his mother with a thorough thrashing. I think I might have broken his nose this time!"

Older dreaming Loki grinned at past Sif. She hadn't realised how beautiful she was, in her brave fierceness and fire. It hadn't been till years later until he had found the tenacity to finally tell her, but it was all there, her fierce loyalty and beautiful friendship. He saw his younger self look up at her with eyes wide as he tried to think of something smart and funny to say, but only came up with "Finally you can cross that off your list. Tell me, who is next on your list of men to grossly humiliate and beat into submission?"

Sif thought for a moment and grinned. "I still haven't gotten Tyson back for that insult to my womanhood after you cut my hair. I was thinking we could combine our efforts on that one, though, seeing as he insulted you too." She sat down in a heap next to him, her gloriously long legs before her and arms tucked behind her head.

Loki had bravely reached out and tugged playfully at one of her short dark locks where it nearly reached her shoulder. "It's growing out so fast. It's good to see the spell worked."

Sif huffed. "Yes, well, I'll have to cut it again soon! I like it short! And it was genius turning it black!" she crowed, but then stilled and looked at him so intensely he had swallowed. "Loki; you really have no idea the difference it has made."

Loki had looked at her in nothing short of awe of her bravery and fierce pride at being different. It was Sif, out of everyone that had taught Loki the power in being oneself in the face of Asgardian sameness- though admittedly he still had not perfected that art. He had taught his children such, but he himself was still terribly mired in shame and self loathing of the things that made him different. Wounds that had been made in his youth had been torn open repeatedly and allowed to fester for centuries as the vicious Sigyn had been forced on him, and her betrayal as his children had been torn from him and the loneliness as he grieved for Aggy. And then, after all of that, he had found out about his real parentage. The air in the garden shimmered around him as the spell he was under strained to push his negative thoughts away. _There is time to think of that later,_ it seemed to whisper, and his vision was drawn to where the two youths sat conspiring in their own little world in the royal gardens. A strange prince and a strong maiden. The prank had gone spectacularly against the vicious son of one of Odin's council members. He couldn't even remember the details but he remembered the sweet taste of victory.

Suddenly he was in his apartments in Asgard the night of the prank. He'd retired shortly after dinner as he couldn't keep his happiness at their victory safely hidden. Sif had barged in carrying pilfered strawberry tarts (his favourite) and wine to celebrate. The dream faded as young Loki was teasing her playfully at the boots she was wearing hidden under her gown. She had looked so beautiful in blue silk, her short hair escaping the clips that struggled to hold it in place, biting into a tart with relish as her cheeks glowed red from the stolen wine. Loki rolled over in his sleep, a gentle smile on his face as he slept on.

 **...**

Sif watched as Darcy and Loki slept. The first, curled up in a chair, head leaning on her arms and legs tucked up, all hair and throat and a flash of skin where her stockings did not quite meet her skirt. The latter slept peacefully for the first time she had seen in many a year. He had been a restless sleeper for as long as she had known him, and in recent centuries she knew he had been plagued by nightmares. The truth was, Loki had more things to plague him in the night than most. His haunted past and overactive imagination had ever worked against him in his sleep.

She subtly stretched the muscles in her back. It was early morn and she had replaced Hogan not an hour past. She thought about what she had seen, in the video that Hogan had played back for her. How the prince had awoken, startling the young woman who then held her ground and gently talked him into taking his medicine and going back to bed. So many times had Sif watched Loki argue relentlessly with Eir and the other healers in Asgard. The Princes were notoriously bad patients as she herself was. She remembered back to when Loki had been burned by dragon fire and snuck off to the library before Eir was done, arguing that he needed, absolutely needed to know where they had gone wrong in their attack before he could rest. Either he was still dreadfully weak or he didn't yet have a plan. She supposed Darcy's promise of a visit with his sons was good enough of a reason for him to linger a little longer. She saw a movement out of the corner and saw the great bulking shape of Thor paused in the hallway.

She didn't turn to him as she spoke a warning. "You cannot be here My Prince."

Thor shook the rain out of his hair in her peripheral vision. "I heard that he awoke."

Sif turned to her prince. "Yes. For a small time. He sleeps again."

Thor nodded; he looked weary, shadows under his eyes and face pinched. His hair and clothing were soaked through as they had been every time Sif had seen him of late. "How goes his healing?"

"Steady. The girl has learned well and has real power. I believe I saw her using earth magic directly a few times. I didn't think that your mother taught her so much. I have to say I am impressed."

Thor nodded. "Lady Darcy is far smarter and more capable than many give her credit for. Lady Jane has said that she would have gone mad several times over but for the lass. I believe my mother just gave her better tools to do what she was already doing."

Sif raised an eyebrow but didn't answer. She was well acquainted with the habit people had of underestimating women, and just how much of a mistake that could be. For many a man and beast, it had been the last mistake they had ever made.

"I just came from Helheim. My niece gives her greetings and thanks."

"Does she have any new instructions?"

He shook his head. "No. Not for you. As for me I will be away for a while. I ask that you send Fenrir to me when he arrives today."

Sif nodded.

Thor gave a weary nod and left, hopefully to get some sleep.

 ** _Hey guys so a new little fic! Way less adventury so far but being sick is no walk in the park. Loki has a long way to go, and his little family will hopefully help him out a lot and Darcy's magic will get better. Yeah, I gave her pink bubblegum magic, so what she's still a badass!_**

 ** _The 'lullaby' Darcy sings to Loki is, of course Summertime, written by_** ** _George Gershwin in 1935. Here_** **** ** _is a link to the amazing Ella Fitzgerald absolutely killing it._**

 ** _Here_** **** ** _is a lovely picture of Orlando Bloom in PJs because boys in their pyjamas are so adorable._**

 ** _And our favourite picture of Tom when he just woke up. Good morning beautiful._**

 ** _So I don't have a visual example for Jormungand because he's supposed to look pretty but inhuman. I'll see if I can find someone who looks like what I'm thinking of._**


	4. Chapter three

Hogan followed Lady Helen's servant through the winding corridors of her palace. On the walls hung art from many different realms and eras, curated together in a mix that the warrior could not fathom. He came from a world of order and clarity, the Lady Helen was born of Chaos himself, and Hogan wondered again at his desire to get to know her more. Was such a thing even possible? Or would he forever be chasing through corridors such as these, seeking some semblance of an understanding for someone who could not be known? He knew not, but like a man on a hunt, he knew he would keep seeking. He also knew that should he get this mark in his sights, he would not be able to slay or capture this wild thing, but only gaze in reverence and thank the Norns that he ever had the privilege to be in her presence. His thoughts were interrupted as they finally came two heavily engraved doors the end of a hall. They were made of a wood so dark and dense that he felt in the air the aid of magic when they were opened, so heavy were they. He raised his eyebrows but, as was his habit, he did not feel the need to comment.

Hel's private chambers were a surprise. Every section of the palace he had seen was made from black marble, with furnishings of greys and dark indigos. Her own personal space could not be more different. The windows were open and light streamed in, illuminating rooms of velvet and brocade lounges in hues of pink, lilac and white. White lace curtains fluttered here and there, dividing spaces and hiding his gaze from the rooms beyond, golden doors held teasingly open. The plush carpet underfoot was white, and the walls were painted in murals featuring picnicking nudes, frolicking elves and vistas of orchards which mimicked the view out her large windows of her own fruit trees outside. There were tables and shelves stacked with books and objects from all of the Nine and beyond displayed reverently, some of the tomes opened on tables to show the rich illustrations inside. An eccentric collection, and one so obviously sentimental. There were shells large and small, crystals, gems and rocks of all manner. A wood and glass case was filled with winged insects. There were hair combs and weapons and parasols and vessels to hold all manner of thing. All was displayed meticulously, but with an order that was only known to the owner of such treasures.

He was reminded in part of her father's rooms at the Golden Palace, which held relics of many kinds, and scrolls and books gathered from all corners of the Nine. Many, he knew, were bought or stolen on their quests. But there was an innate femininity and lightness to Hel's collections that differed from her father's. As well as an obvious eye for aesthetics. While there was a certain aesthetic to Loki's collection it was gathered entirely to feed the prince's insatiable thirst for knowledge and the power gained thus. The smallest smile touched Hogan's lips as he found parts of the personality he had been so desperate to learn laid out for him to see. This was a gift indeed, and the warrior treasured it as such, taking it all in as he slowly followed the servant through the spaces until they found the owner of such treasures.

When they found her in a smaller sitting room, Hel was cleaning her weapons. She sat at a window seat, long legs bent up on the plush pink seat before her, with a multitude of knives, pistols of different kinds and a even few swords laid out neatly on a low table to her side. She was currently working on the last in a set of throwing daggers, its hilt's ornate decoration worn from centuries of use, but its blade honed killing sharp by its complex owner. Hogan and the servant stood still and silent by the doorway, waiting for her attention when she chose to give it. Finally Hel looked up when she was happy with her work. She placed the knife and whetstone on the table and rose, cleaning her hands on an exquisitely embroidered handkerchief. She was not dressed in her usual confection of black lace and corsetry, though he could tell she was dressed in Midgardian fashion, which she favoured. She wore pants that were snug to her form, like leggings, but wore a short tunic of a soft fabric, the cropped waist brazenly displaying how the pants hugged her waist, hips and thighs. Black, of course, as was her want. She was not wearing shoes, he noticed, her delicate toenails were painted shell pink. Her bi-coloured hair fell in soft curls over her shoulders and spilled down her back. It was clear to Hogan that he had been gifted with an audience in one of the Mistress' more private moments, and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry with a rare nervousness at the implications.

Hel smiled at him, finally breaking the silence- she had been taking him in as he had her. As always, he wondered at the attention given to a humble warrior. "Hogan, it is lovely to see you!" she turned to her servant. "Thank you Matilde. Would you mind asking Daphne to send up some lunch? We shall eat it on my balcony I think." The servant, Matilde nodded and left them alone. It was not often that Hogan found himself in such a situation, alone with a beautiful woman, and he was glad for his military training else he not know how to stand or what to do with his hands. "Tell me, Hogan what news of my father?" Hel sat back down, motioning for him to sit as she picked up her whetstone and another dagger and started to work on it. "I apologise for the state you find me in, but I find in times such as these, the discipline of maintaining my weapons helps me to relax, and gives my worried hands something to do."

Hogan understood this well, and nodded. He sat on the edge of the window seat, closer to her than he had been since the night she took him to Midgard. Her long neck was exposed as she leaned over to do her work, and he smelled her magic, a floral scent that clung to her skin and hung in the very air around her. It was a queer mix with the scent of grease and gunpowder currently in the room, but it worked, strangely enough. "Physically, he seems to be healing well Milady. He still sleeps, though unsettled. I think he dreams though I know not what of. The girl has done well with caring for his body, he doesn't have much mending left to do, a few bones perhaps."

Hel's hands had stopped their work when he was speaking, though she didn't look at him. "It has been three Midgardian weeks and he has not yet awoken?" She fingered the dagger, its long pointed blade glinting gold in the sunlight.

"He did wake, once this morn. He asked a few questions. He was quite disoriented but lucid enough. He found the Queens' choice of nurse to be a little confusing, and was shocked at the level of Lady Sif's involvement."

She huffed a laugh, though her hands shook, and she clenched them closed, moving the blade away from her on instinct. "He shouldn't. For as long as I remember Sif has always been involved in all of Father's various messes, helping where she could. They have forever disagreed on every little thing but truer friends I have never seen." She smiled wanly. "I've always wondered if there would ever be another chance for them, you know, whether they could make it work. That is I suppose if everything works and we manage to pull this thing off. If he can even bear to keep fighting."

Hogan could see tears on her cheeks and wondered what he should do to ease his lady's pain. He knew not when he had started to think of Lady Helen as such. This young woman, the Fallen Prince's daughter had stalked in and silently stolen away his heart and he hadn't even noticed or cared. All of his centuries of acting with the utmost of propriety melted away as he found himself on his knees before her, calloused hands cupping her face and thumbs wiping her tears. "My Lady, save your tears, for your father would not wish for them. " She looked up at him with her oddly coloured eyes, delicately sniffing, and trying to do as he asked. "I know he has been through much these last years, but when has he not?" Hogan was not really used to putting this many words together, certainly not to comfort someone, but he continued, moving one hand to gently stroke her silver hair out of her eyes. "I know not of a stronger family than that of Loki and his children. Every time I have seen your father in a scrape he has walked away undefeated and smiling- generally with a few stolen relics or ancient tomes in hand. If anyone can get through this next season with a victory, it is your father. And, as he is aided by all of his children, his mother and the Lady Sif, I would think that you will find yourself with Thanos' head as a trophy over your fireplace in no time, for I know you to be a much greater hunter than myself."

Helen closed her eyes and nodded. A single tear sliding down her cheek, for it was impossible to speak of Loki's victories without speaking of his losses, and they had been great indeed. Not knowing where the courage or impulse came from, Hogan the Grimm found himself leaning forward and catching the Mistress of Helheim's lips gently in a kiss. She responded instantly, the hand that wasn't holding a dagger grasped at his gauntlet bound wrist, locking his hand firmly in place. His other hand found itself moving to the back of her head and digging into her hair as she ran her tongue over his bottom lip. He let out a small groan as he was brought back to himself and he jerked away, standing and moving backwards, placing the table of weapons between them. He bowed his head. "I- I'm sorry. I apologise my Lady."

A look of hurt crossed her face as she also stood, still gripping the dagger in her right fist unconsciously. "Why ever are you sorry? What is there to apologise for?"

Hogan gave her a pleading look, begging her not to be offended. "Madame I am more than nine centuries your senior. I am your father's age, though just a lowly warrior and I – I don't deserve one such as you." He swallowed at the look of sheer disappointment on her face. He looked into her eyes and knew instant regret. There had been stories, but-

Her rich voice was deceptively calm, her eyes glittering with a thousand secrets. "Haven't you heard, Hogan the Grimm of how I attained this position? The tale of how a little girl who was cast out of Asgard became the Mistress of Souls?"

He was about to reply when the knife she had been holding sailed past his ear. The sound of it piercing wood and a surprised yelp came from behind him. Slightly wide eyed he looked to see a shaken Fandral, who was, at present, attached to the door by the dagger. His collar was slowly blooming read from the razor thin graze on his neck. "How _dare_ you enter my private sanctuary without my permission?" When Hogan turned back to The Mistress she was clothed in an elegant gown of black once more, marking the end of – whatever the moment they just had was. He politely took a few steps to the side, putting more distance between them and allowing him to see the two of them both.

Fandral carefully pulled the knife from the door and walked over, bowing low and handing it back to Hel, hilt first. "I apologise most ardently Mistress, the doors were open and I ... presumed too much. Please forgive me."

A sudden breeze came through the window, worrying at the angry woman's hair and cape, the light material stirring and adding effect to her wrath. Any amorous light that had been in her eyes moments ago was now replaced with anger. For all Hogan was sorry for his part in it she was still incredibly beautiful when enraged. "You _people_. You Warriors of Asgard think that you may go where you please and intrude upon spaces you know nothing about. Helheim is outside the rule of Odin. This is my land- and indeed my sanctuary, warrior, and only those who are invited may enter." Fandral seemed to realise how much trouble he was in. He fell to one knee. Hel continued haughtily, chin in the air, and an ornate obsidian sabre appearing in her hand. "Tell me why I shouldn't simply _take your soul_ right now." The men had rarely seen Hel wearing her power, and Fandral gulped, the scoundrel was clearly aroused as well as terrified. Hogan could only admit to the same, his pants even tighter in this moment then during their short kiss. He was glad for unforgiving leather and metal in that moment.

Fandral stood; baring his bloodied neck as a target should the lady wish it. His pulse clearly throbbing and his eyes wide. "My Liege sent me here to join you on Midgard this night my Lady. He wishes me to aid in guarding your father. As much as it would be an honour to serve you here, perhaps you would like to wait to kill me until after I serve such a purpose." He bowed again.

Hel bared her teeth at her meddling Uncle but put her sabre away. The breeze seemed to still and the air held less electricity. Hogan found that breathing was easier, though he didn't remember having any trouble breathing before. "Very well warrior, but you are not to set foot on Helhiem again unless there is an emergency concerning my family. It is time for you boys to go. I shall join you at Darcy's this evening before the party at Starks. Take the bifrost, seeing as my grandfather deigns to get involved at this point, he can transport you."

Fandral bowed and left the room. Hogan went to do the same, but was prevented from leaving as the doors quietly but firmly closed in front of his face. He swallowed, turning to find Hel inches from his face. "Was there something else my Lady?" He asked quietly, hoping he hadn't ruined everything between them. Her face was unreadable until it wasn't. There was danger in her eyes and something else, perhaps a little apprehension, a vulnerability which reflected his own. Desire was still curling his belly at her proximity, becoming stronger as she stepped closer and grabbed him firmly but gently by his beard. Her kiss was firm, despite the softness of her lips, her teeth grazing his bottom lip and making him desire to never to leave her rooms. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and teased his own, making another groan escape his ordinarily disciplined mouth before she pulled away, hands gripping his armoured shoulders and pushing him into the door.

"This conversation? Is not over." She said finally, looking him full in the eyes. She bit her lip. "And perhaps in the interim you should ask the brave Lady Sif for a tale about the making of the Mistress of Helheim. I suggest you do so with some strong drink."

Hogan nodded, not trusting himself to speak, but allowing both the desire and sorrow that he felt show in his eyes. The stories of Loki and Angrboda's children three were all of them full of tragedy, despite their victorious endings. "I will do as you say, my Lady."

Hel nodded and turned away, not watching as he turned and exited the room and then her suites, heart galloping an uneven beat in his chest. When he rejoined with Fandral, who had made a hasty retreat and was waiting at the bifrost site, he was still a little dazed. Fandral grinned at him. "It is a dangerous game you play my friend, but by the look on your face I'd say it will be your most worthy quest yet." And with a thump on his shoulder he called for Heimdall and they moved on to Midgard.

 _ **Hogan in love amuses me to no end.**_ _ **Hel changed into this dress.**_


	5. Chapter four

"You don't need to change into wolf form every time do you?" Darcy awoke to the sound of male voices, and opened her eyes to see Fenrir and Jormungand sitting on their father's bed, which was straining a little bit under the weight of the three massive dudes.

Fenrir was grumpy; his strong eyebrows were scrunched up as he answered "I prefer it when I'm taking a passenger. Not everyone has the power and control that you do, Dad."

Loki didn't bite. "Not everyone, but _you_ have enough. This will not do. You need to practice." Loki's voice was stern but Darcy could see his hand on each of his sons, grabbing at their sleeves as if he needed to know that they were really there.

Darcy rose, her neck and back clicking from the weird angle she had them in all night. She must look a mess. The men turned, Jormungand giving her a giant smile and Fenrir's face softening as he took in her disheveled state. Loki's face was stern at the interruption. Fenrir reached for her, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. "Oh hey sleepy. You didn't go home last night?"

"Neh, I didn't want your dad to be alone if he woke up again."

Loki looked affronted. "I am not a child. I do not need watching over."

Darcy shrugged. "Hey I wasn't watching. I was sleeping." She turned to Fenrir. "How was business this morning?"

Fenrir frowned, his brow creasing. "Good. Sold out early."

Darcy tilted her head and reached up to rub between his eyebrows. "So...why are you frowning?"

"We sold out because all of the other farmers are having problems with their blooms getting ruined in the rain." Jormungand's face was soft, but full of concern. "I've had to erect a magical barrier to prevent my own from getting damaged but the human farmers obviously don't have that. I'm going to speak to Uncle Thor later. This has to stop."

Loki's face was creased in thought but he didn't add to the conversation. His eyes were on the way Fenrir was holding Darcy's hand, stroking it with is thumb. Darcy tensed and pulled her hand away, hiding it behind her back as if that would fool the god. He only raised his head to look at her, face stern, eyes narrowed and searching. She felt like he could see her soul and worried at her lip with her teeth as she wondered whether that was possible. There were some stories about Sif's brother Heimdall that sounded pretty close. Fenrir and Jormy were still talking about seasonal rain and stock losses, completely oblivious of the exchange. Darcy swallowed as she felt the sudden need to get out of that gaze. She pulled away from Fenrir's space. "Hey! So I'm going to go get some breakfast and let you guys catch up. I'm sure I'm only getting in the way here."

Loki smiled smugly, signalling he heartily approved this idea but the boys argued. Jormungand stood. "No, Darcy come on, stay! Tell me how my father is going."

"Jormungand I am right here. Let the child go, she probably hasn't eaten or bathed for who knows how long." Loki's tone was firm, but Fenrir pulled a lunch bag and hot steaming cup out of _somewhere_ and passed them to Darcy with a conspiratorial wink. Maybe he had noticed their exchange after all.

He smiled knocked Loki with his elbow. "Stay, Darce, I brought you breakfast anyway. Don't listen to Dad; he just wants all the attention to himself."

Loki pulled a face and eyed the paper bag in her hands like it had ruined Christmas. Darcy hovered in the doorway. "Are you sure you boys don't want to talk about feelings and braid each other's hair?"

The boys laughed. Jormy crossed the room and pulled her by the elbow back across. "We can do that in a bit. Here, give me a sip of that coffee." Jormy was purposefully being overly affectionate and Darcy could tell it was having the desired effect on his father, his feathers were defiantly ruffled.

"Oh, sorry, I got us one as well." Fenrir pulled two more cups out of thin air and the prince's expression of offence was completely hilarious.

"This is not a picnic blanket. Go eat somewhere else!"

Fenrir laughed. "Well, actually dad, I brought you some soup. Do you think you could try some?" he held out a mug of broth to Jormungand who did something to it because soon it was steaming. Loki's mouth turned down even more as he eyed the soup. "No, come on. The sooner you convince us that you're not going to choke on this we'll give you better stuff but you have to earn it."

The prince took the mug from his silver son and balefully took a sip. The soup must have been pretty awesome, because he happily finished it while Darcy perched on the counter near her witchy corner and ate her bagel. "Dude where did you get this? This bagel is legit."

Fenrir paused in bringing his coffee up for a sip, his eyes full of secrets, New York deliciousness secrets. "Good, right? There is a vendor down by the flower market. He always buys our tulips for his wife and makes really awesome bagels." He took his sip and changed the subject. "So... Are we still going to this Halloween party tonight?"

Darcy's eyes widened. She had totally forgotten about the party. "Yes! I mean, if you still want to? Do you know if Hel and Hogan were still coming?" she asked, eyes sliding to Loki as she said Hogan's name. Man she was usually such a smooth liar, but around the old god of lies her game was really slipping. His chin tightened, but again he said nothing. She had wondered what he would think about his daughter dating his old hunting comrade. It was a very special case though. She shrugged, Hel could look after herself.

Jormungand nodded eagerly, his smile widening and mischief in his eyes. " I got a tip off that I should dress as Legolas to attract that cute archer that lives here. It's been a while since I got lucky so..."

Darcy closed her eyes as she broke out in giggles. Firstly because Jormungand was always so open and affectionate with her even though they'd only met once before, and that made her feel really good on so little sleep. Secondly? Because Clint was going to cream his pants. Thirdly, because hearing immortal beings talking about 'getting lucky' never ever got old. She nodded. "Yeah, that will totally work. You are _totally_ going to get laid tonight. Though... I think you should go as Legolas' dad. You'd totally rock a crown and it's more fabulous."

Jormungand looked smug as he nodded. He knew he'd rock a crown. "What about you, princess? You got a cute costume yet? Or is it a surprise?" he wiggled his eyebrows and looked to Fenrir who rolled his eyes.

Darcy blushed. "You know, I totally don't. I've been too busy with this guy's third degree burns to find anything." They all looked to where Loki lay, having fallen asleep again, despite his seated position. His hands cradling his empty soup mug and hair splayed out on the pillow.

Fenrir rubbed Darcy's arm. "Why don't you guys go shopping while I chat to Thor? You can get some sleep and I'll meet you at yours later."

"Are you sure? What if he wakes up again?"

"Hey I got this covered. You were looking forward to this party so much the last time we spoke about it."

.

"Yeah, no I am, I'm really excited." She eyed Loki again, noticing he was smiling in his sleep again and feeling pretty damn proud of herself. "Hey I think your dad really wanted to chat with you guys without me here."

Fenrir shrugged. "Yeah, we'll have time for that later. He's not really up for any hugely emotional conversations just yet, and he needs to know he's not going to get his way all the time here."

Darcy looked from Loki to Fenrir, and sighed as she took Jormy's proffered hand. "Ok, but don't push yourself too hard. And don't get into a punch up with Thor unless that will help the situation."

Fenrir grinned. "I won't. Now get out of here." He and Jormungand exchanged looks and Darcy wondered if they had planned this the whole time. She shrugged. Didn't really matter, she really needed a costume and it wasn't like hanging out with Jormy was hard.

She said goodbye to Sif and trailed behind Jormungand as he lead her to the elevators.

...

Thor opened his apartment door to find Fenrir Standing with a nice sized poesy of orange roses. "I ah, thought Jane might like them." Fenrir said gruffly at the puzzled look. Thor nodded and opened his door wider to allow his nephew through. Fenrir smelled the strong scent of Thor's magic as he brushed passed him, all ozone and pepper. The apartment smelled of old Indian take out and fresh pop tarts and the smell of Thor's magic. "I hear you went to visit my sister?"

Thor motioned to the giant Thor sized couch for him to sit, taking the flowers and putting them into a vase. "Yes. I wanted to know if there was anything I could do about potential dangers seeing as I am unable to help closer to home." His hand fisted on the bench and his chin tightened. "I spent some time with my father in Asgard also."

Fenrir's face grew more serious. "So he knows?"

Thor nodded. Yes, the Allfather knows Loki is alive. He knows also of Thanos and the danger in the future. He has given us Fandral to keep guard with the others. They'll need to be more awake and wily now that my brother has awoken. For all Lady Darcy's charms I'm not convinced that he will wish to stay here."

Fenrir nodded. That was true, but they were hoping they would be able to talk him into it. "He doesn't really have anywhere else to go, so he's stuck here for now... though admittedly that's never stopped him before."

"Hel suggested I come stay with you guys at the farm for a while." Thor looked pretty sure of his welcome by the looks of it.

Fen shifted in his chair. The thought of Thor coming in contact with some of the characters who lived at the farm did not make him comfortable. "I don't think that's the best idea. You know we're not the only people who live there, right? And all that rain you've been bringing has been damaging our neighbours' produce."

Thor's face crumpled. He pulled his right hand into a fist and the rain outside abruptly stopped. "I'm sorry it seems I only bring damage wherever I go."

Fenrir raised his eyebrow at the dramatics. "Hey, now you know that's not true. It's just this situation. And even that won't be forever. Why don't you go away with Jane, I hear she's doing some tests in New Mexico?"

"Yes, maybe that would be best."

There was an awkward silence before Fenrir changed the subject. "Uh, are you coming to the Halloween party tonight?"

Thor smiled wistfully. "Yes, I am going as the son of Erwin. He was a great lover of the ferocious beast called the crocodile."

Fen couldn't help grinning at that. "That's great. Well I'm going with Darcy so I'll see you there." He made to rise but a heavy hand on his shoulder pushed him firmly back into the couch.

His eyes were hard where they had been mopey just a second ago. "Yes, maybe now is the time to talk about what intensions you have for Lady Darcy. She is very dear to me, Nephew."

Fen's eyebrow shot up, he rubbed his chin and looked at the star charts on the wall. He supposed he should have seen this coming. "Uh... well she took me by surprise, that's for sure."

Thor grinned, and laughed, understanding. Darcy Lewis was like no other. "How did you meet?"

"She must have got the name of our business from Hel, because she just ordered flowers one day. When I delivered them, she asked me out for a burger, and then to see a show, and I sort of found myself ... unable to refuse. I definitely like her, but..." he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I ... I feel so old. She's so young and vibrant and ... innocent and I feel like I have seen ... too many things." He rubbed his hand over his face and Thor watched on, pensively.

"I know the feeling, nephew. Mortals have so much energy; everything is so new to them. My Jane gets so excited over the tiniest things, and I know what you are saying, I sometimes feel ten thousand years old next to that excitement. But it gives me energy. I find that seeing the world through her eyes gives me a thousand new reasons to fight and live well."

Fenrir nodded. He looked at his Uncle. "But how- their lives are so short. How can you invest your trust and your love so freely knowing it will end so soon?"

Thor looked out the window, taking a while to answer. "I have found my time with Jane sweeter than any of the other years or centuries that have gone before. I only figure that at the end I will have experienced a treasure where I didn't know there could be one. A treasure more precious than any found on any quest or gained in any battle."

"But what about..." Fenrir groaned. He'd been trying to avoid thinking too hard about it all but that didn't mean he was successful at it. "I don't want Darcy's life to have the shadow that I carry around. You and I, our kind, have so much blood on our hands, and we have seen so much war and death. I don't know if I'm willing to let that touch Darcy. And then there is my father's reputation. She doesn't deserve the curse of the Lokisons." He went back to looking at the star charts, seeing constellations that he had looked upon for the first time as a young man, freshly thrown out of Asgard.

Thor's tone was gentle, and maybe a little pleading. "Maybe this is what you need. Just like your farm, this is a chance to live outside of that shadowed reputation. Hel has told me of your peaceful ways, of your love of music and beauty and hard work. That truly sounds to me of something the lovely Lady Darcy deserves to be a part of. And you deserve someone who will see you for that."

Fenrir had been puzzling this out for a while, and had never expected an answer from this quarter. He had a conversation to have with Darcy. "Thank you."

...

"Tell me about the girl." Fenrir was in the med lab going over some paperwork on his laptop while his father slept, but it appeared everyone wanted to talk about his love life today. His father was propped up on his bony elbow, his long hair falling lightly over his shoulder.

"Who, Darcy? Grandmother started visiting her in dreams when she and Hel started scheming to break you out." He smiled. "You know more than I how Grandmother is always ten steps ahead."

"And this is why you were holding her hand and giving her kisses? Because Frigga is ten steps ahead?"

Fenrir scowled at his father's petulant tone. He really wasn't ready to have this conversation with his father, especially as he didn't even really know where they were at in a relationship at all. Darcy had been playing it very cool, allowing Fenrir the space he needed. "Look dad, I like her, but we aren't all that serious yet. I don't want you to get the wrong idea. Things are a lot looser on Midgard." Loki didn't look fooled. "Really. You can give me a lecture if I ever decide I want to marry her but your concern is a little unwarranted. Your arrival here disrupted anything from happening so far." He shrugged. "She makes me laugh. She has power and likes my pointy teeth. She has a beautiful singing voice."

"She is a child."

"She is not a child. You should hear about some of the things her and Hel talk about on their girl's nights. She's no kid. You've seen her. That's not a body of a child."

Loki's face looked a little haunted. "I admit I still think of Hel as a child herself." Fenrir laughed at that. His sister was one of the most ancient and feared beings in the Nine Realms. Loki's brows creased. "And _what is this I hear about Hogan_?"

Fenrir rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised you hadn't noticed dad, she's had that crush for at least a century."

He pulled a face at that. "Yes, but he is attending a feast with her. It sounds like that _scoundrel_ returns her affections. He's my age, you know. And a traitor."

Another eye roll. "Dad you sound like an old gossiping woman. Leave her be. As much as you see her as a child, Hel can definitely take care of herself. Out of the two of them, it's Hogan I'm more worried about. Really. She'll chew him up and spit him out if he's not careful."

Loki looked almost proud at that. "Oh I suppose so." He picked at his sleeve, flicking off imaginary dust and smoothing it out. He looked back at his son. "It really is good to see you. Tell me about your farm. Where's Jormungand?"

"He's examining Darcy's magic. Sif said that she was doing some earth magic that Grandmother hadn't taught her. Apparently she's got some heavy instinctual talent, so he's making sure she won't burn herself accidentally or something."

Loki frowned, remembering the spell when he was sleeping. "What has she been doing? I have only seen her mixing up potions."

"I think she was doing a sleep spell? I'm not sure. Jorm will have some answers after this afternoon." Fenrir yawned. "Hey I'd better get going. I've got to have a sleep before tonight or I'll collapse."

"You? Collapse? Never." His face softened. "Can you nap here? You can share my bed in wolf form."

Fenrir saw something in his father's eyes that looked a little like fear. He obviously wasn't quite ready to let him go. He breathed out something that wasn't quite a sigh. "Ok but you have to drink some more soup first." Loki nodded. Fenrir suppressed a smile of victory. He'd been hoping that his cooking would be to his father's taste. He really needed to put on some weight, so the sooner he was eating square meals the better. He pulled out another mug from his interdimentional storage space and heated it in the microwave in the absence of Jormungand's fire magic. Soon it was steaming, and he handed it to Loki who sipped at it enthusiastically, cradling the cup in his bony hands. He really was thin. Fenrir watched him, trying to hide his concern. His father always had a vitality and strength that seemed to ooze out of his very skin. It was still faintly there but it was much depleted. He was like half a man at present, like Superman carrying kryptonite around in his pocket. He hoped that Darcy had what it would take to bring him back to full health. He smiled to himself, he was pretty sure if anyone did, it was Darcy.

Loki finished his soup and a glass of water and hobbled into the bathroom to take care of the necessities. When he returned to his bed and settled rather exhausted into his pillows, Fenrir allowed himself to change into his wolf form, his arms and legs bending backwards and jaw stretching till he was on all fours. He sniffed the air, adjusting to the sensory overload that hit him with the change of form. He could smell Sif through the door, and Darcy's herbs and potions. His father smelled of mint and electricity and burned flesh, and the sheets smelled pleasantly of laundry powder. His father was looking at him affectionately, and Fenrir was thankful that despite their strange and desperate childhood, their parents loved them for who they were. He carefully leapt onto the bed as Loki shuffled over. He gently lay down next to his father, giving him a lick on the cheek and Loki smiled, it was precisely the type of affection he could get away with in his current form. The air con was on full high in the lab at all times, presumably to help bring his father's body temperature down to its proper level. Fenrir felt his fur moving in the breeze created, his own Jotunn blood enjoying the low temperature. He laid his head on his father's chest, Loki bringing his arm round and resting his hand in the scruff of his neck. They both settled into sleep, content in each other's company. Fenrir could smell roses and sage as Darcy's spell kicked in, and he wondered at the strength of it. As far as he knew she hadn't refreshed it at all. Lulled by his father's even breathing Fenrir fell asleep, drifting into pleasant dreams of his own.


	6. Chapter five

OK so Darcy had to admit she felt a little ambushed. She glared at Jormungand where he sat at her dining table, enthusiastically biting into a taco as if he hadn't just landed a bombshell on her. His giant hands dwarfed the taco and it was pretty hilarious. "What?" The afternoon had gone so well. They found the cutest gingham cropped shirt and skirt for her Red Riding Hood costume, and some adorable velvet platform sandals to go with the red cape she already owned. They were done within an hour, picked up something from a taco truck and headed back to her apartment. She'd thought it was to watch some of _Britain's Largest Bake Off_ but apparently that wasn't the plan at all. She scowled.

Jormungand rolled his eyes. "Darcy, this is a good thing! You're totally a legit and powerful witch! You are awesome... Why are you looking at me like that?"

Her scowl turned into a frown. "I don't know, I just feel like you guys are all in this club and talking about me behind my back."

Jormungand smiled at her, his violet eyes looking silver in the low light of the apartment. "Firstly, that club is called family and it can't be helped I'm afraid." She gave a reluctant laugh and he continued. "Secondly, Sif was the one who told us. She noticed the difference in your work and your adorable confused face and wanted us to make sure you wouldn't hurt yourself. No, don't pull that face, remember that she grew up with my father, so she saw him injure himself all the time while he was teaching himself how to be the incredibly powerful sorcerer he is now. She knows you won't be as foolhardy as father but she's still a little worried. She showed me the surveillance video of when your magic woke up and you hid your cute pink hands behind your back. I just wanted to chat and let you know that it's awesome and I'm really excited that you have fire magic. I get so annoyed at the other two doing all their disappearing and stuff but we have some rad stuff too."

OK, Darcy would let him off the hook. "So...how does that work if we're from two separate species?"

As far as I'm aware, there are two separate types of magic, that of earth and that of air, or fire and ice. You are generally born to one. Hel is a freak and has both. Father is also a freak but he somehow learned earth magic which ... don't even ask me how I have no idea. There is a possibility that sleeping with mother had something to do with it, or all the time spent in Asgard but I honestly don't know" Jormungand rolled his eyes and waved dismissively, "He is just freakishly smart and tenacious and doesn't take no for an answer. But more simply, though it's complicated with our mixed parentage and other factors you can safely assume that I am mostly earth and Fenrir is mostly air. Thor is earth, and Frigga is earth."

Darcy smiled. Yay team Frigga.

Jormungand finished his last taco and wiped his hands, taking a sip of his post-mixed coke. "A way that I look at it is ... our magic is about presence and creation. It's about positives if you will. That is how I can convince plants to grow, wounds to heal and potions to take properly and things like that. Father and Fenrir's magic is one of unmaking, or fading, or creating absence. They can manipulate things to such a fine point that they can move through space and move objects. It's quite amazing and unusual, and took a lot longer for them to learn. You're actually super lucky, because you'll be able to learn a lot in your lifespan."

Darcy's eyes were wide as she listened. Frigga had spoken a little about this stuff but not really, concentrating on the things she needed specifically for Loki.

She tipped her head to the side. "So I can make fire?"

Jormungand smiled. "Yes you can, would you like me to teach you?" Darcy nodded. "Now hold out your hand. That's a good girl. Now I want you to think of the heat in your body, and imagine your hands glowing with it...that's perfect..."

...

Hel was furious. Sitting stiffly once more in at her window seat, she meticulously packed up her precious weapons and placed them in their boxes, holsters and various interdimensional pockets. She slowed her breathing and tried eversomuch to push her frustration to the back of her mind. Half frost and half fire she may be, but she only had so much capacity to feel several things at once. No, she would much rather think on the divine moment she had before she was interrupted than think on arrogant patriarchal Asgardians and their overblown sense of entitlement.

She moved through her suites out to her large balcony, taking in the cool evening breeze and watching the suns set over the horizon. She noticed her lunch still set out on the table, having never been seen to. Smiling ruefully she poured herself a glass of rose and sipped, leaning on the railing and thinking back to Hogan's delightful entrance earlier that afternoon. Unlike Fandral's unforgivable intrusion, Hogan's invitation had been calculated. If it were up to the quiet warrior they would take three more centuries before they had had five conversations, so she decided to introduce herself a little, allowing him to see her very personal collections and her sanctuary. A silent conversation between her curated histories and those quick eyes of his. She knew the move had been successful when he arrived, eyes bright, the slightest smile on his face, and fingers barely twitching in nervousness.

The weapons of course had also been a calculated move, showing him how deadly serious she took battle craft and, of course that she was not some defenceless wench he could claim for his own. Fandral had inadvertently and rather beautifully helped her make that point, though she wouldn't be thanking him any time soon. She grimaced as she took another sip of wine. Crying had definitely not been planned, though if she'd known that that was all it took to make him break composure...

Hel was thinking of more ways to get under his skin when she saw the bifrost connect and deposit none other than the High King of Asgard. She bristled. Kiss or no, today totally sucked in the visitor department. She relocated herself to the top of her veranda stairs and descended. He could walk his way up the garden but there was no way he was allowed into her personal space, Grandfather or no.

Odin did walk through the garden, eyes softening when he saw some of Frigga's favourites planted in prominent positions. "Hello _Grandfather_." She only partly softened the harshness in her tone.

The Allfather's eye came to rest on his granddaughter and his face remained soft, as it had on the roses. She was a little surprised, though she did not deign to let him see that. This was her home turf and she needed to remain in control of the situation. His voice was also gentle when he spoke. "Helen, how are you?"

"I find myself utterly exhausted by all the sudden traffic from Asgard- and not in the usual sense, you understand. One of your men burst into my chambers just an hour ago."

Odin did not look happy at that, though he did not comment. "I have come to speak of my son."

"Oh yes! He was here too! Thor may be my uncle but I have no idea why you would want to come here to discuss him."

He tutted at her games. "Come, Helen, you know it is your father I speak of. I wish to know where you gathered your information from. Thor has been telling me such tales these last few days and I only wonder at the truth of them."

"You would, for whom but the Allfather has any right to discern a truth?" Hel was not in the mood. Her spies and agents were as solid as they came, and very loyal to the Mistress of Souls, but she would never give up their names, not even for the life of her beloved father. The consequences would be far too great. "You do not need my sources, for you know the truth of the tales yourself. You saw his eyes when he was returned to you, saw the ferocity of his reaction when you called him your son. He survived far more than the void, and it was more than any discovery of his true lineage that drove him to madness. His very magic was tainted, warped by the atmospheres of whatever pit he was kept in. You know this. You kept him in your dungeons to protect him. Oh, don't look at me like that of course you did. You would have banished him to Jottenheim otherwise. I know you, Odin son of Bor. I may question your wisdom in some things- many things, but I can see your motivations clear as day, however selfish and warped you may be, I know you love Loki in your own way. The only tragedy is that that is not the way that he or even you needed. _You should have listened to your queen_."

Odin clearly did not like what was being said, but he did not reply in ire. Instead, he nodded. "I had hoped he would eventually speak of what happened to him. When the Prisons where taken... When I thought him lost to us... I only sought to keep him out of harm's way. But his wasn't the only mind fracturing under pressure by that point." His face crumbled and he looked back to the garden. "You are not the only one who loves him."

"This I know. And I am not the only one who rescued him. He has always had friends and allies who trusted him throughout." She sighed. "You have a lot to answer for, Grandfather. If you want to atone, there is no time like the present. The Nine Realms and beyond need us all to be allies if we are to win a war with Thanos."

Odin nodded. "Verily. I was hoping it would not come to that but the Nine Realms have been sheltered too long. I have begun to prepare the troops. I will bring Thor back to Asgard to direct the preparations."

Hel nodded. "If the two armies of Ragnarok are united I feel we have a chance. If the Wolf, the Destroyer of Worlds, the armies of Hel, the Gate Keeper, Loki and the Golden Prince fright shoulder to shoulder, who knows what we can achieve?"

Odin listened and nodded. "Then we are agreed. I shall take my leave of you, I hear you have a feast to attend."

Hel smiled softly, not feeling at all like a party. "Indeed. Here." She pulled out a dagger and cut a scarlet rose for her grandfather. Its scent was heady and sweet in the evening air. "A parting gift." Odin took the bloom, eye soft and hand shaking slightly. "It is never too late to start mending the bridge after all."

He nodded, and headed back to the bifrost site, the runes a bruise on the dirt in the dying light. He turned to her and said "Fare well Granddaughter."

Hel held up a hand in farewell as he was taken by the bridge. He hadn't once called her that in her life. She stood alone in her garden. For the second time that day she found herself crying, this time with no Hogan to wipe away her tears.

...

Darcy's apartment was full of beautiful, large magical beings. She was all dressed up in her adorable outfit of gingham for her Little Red Riding Hood costume; she was just missing the Big Bad Wolf. "Oh don't worry lovely, he's probably just fallen asleep on some paperwork." Jormungand rubbed her back gently from his perch on the couch's armrest.

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "He does that? I thought you guys were super human."

"Well technically we're not human at all lovely." He took a swig of beer from his can of bud. Dressing as Thranduil from _Desolation of Smaug_ really wasn't taking away from his magical being vibe, it really wasn't.

"You're definitely not. Not convinced about Robin Hood over here though, I think he's faking it."

They turned and looked at Fandral, who was lounging on the kitchen bench with a beer and who was, to Darcy's absolute delight, actually wearing green tights and that funny hat with a feather in it. He picked up his definitely-not-a-costume-piece bow. "I can prove my prowess if the lady wishes." He said with a bow and a wink.

"Neh, that's fine." She was just taking another sip of her beer when Hel turned up, just appearing on the couch next to her. The woman was a total babe and Darcy didn't want to admit it, but she looked a little off her usual game. Was that a twig in her tangled hair?

"Lady Helen, but you're not wearing a costume!" Fandral's cheer was interrupted with a look from Hel.

Hogan's face was more grim than usual, the scythe leaning against the wall at his elbow not helping. "Does something ail my Lady?"

Hel's face softened and she closed her eyes, rubbing her face. She abruptly reached out and stole a slug of her beer. Darcy wasn't about to complain. "I just had the first conversation with my grandfather since our banishment."

Jormungand leaned across Darcy and grabbed his sister's hand. "Are you OK? Did you need some time?"

Hel smiled, squeezing Jormy's hand back. "Thanks darling but no, we're already late. I believe Fenrir will meet us there."

"Are you going to wear a costume?" Darcy asked, offering her another swig of her beer.

"Ah, of course." As Hel stood her attire changed from the chic caped gown she had been wearing to Marceline the Vampire Queen costume complete with guitar and sans twigs. She looked amazing, her hair reaching below her knees but still stubbornly dual-toned.

"How is this?"

"I am restraining myself from jumping you right now actually. I totally ship Marceline and Bubblegum."

Darcy's eyes were wide as the Mistress of Souls gave her a seductive look and stole more of her beer. "OK let's go. I think it's time to drink on Tony's dime."

They decided to walk there and so Darcy locked the door behind her, now rugged up in her little hooded cape and Thranduil took her arm. Marcleine and the Grimm Reaper held hands and Robin Hood was practically skipping with delight in the ambiance of New York City on All Hallows Eve.

So...Some weirdo aliens with filthy hair all over their bodies were the last thing Darcy expected to just out of nowhere and shoot at her in Manhattan. She wasn't expecting the pain that burned in her left bicep making her howl. She wasn't expecting Hogan to push her to the ground as the air exploded around them. Of course she also really wasn't expecting Hel to pull a fucking laser space pistol out of _somewhere_ and take out one of their heads. The other was dully taken by Jormy and Fandral. Thank god for usable costume props.

Hogan rose and helped Darcy to her feet. Jormy looked at her wound, his face not hiding his grave concern very well. His expression brought Darcy to the conclusion that she wasn't going look at her arm right now, nope, she'd just keep her eyes up. She felt a little light headed actually and her arm hurt a lot fuck it hurt so much. Her vision started to get black at the edges. "Fuck. Fenrir is going to kill me." Jormungand said as he blew on her wound and she could feel something happening. Swirls of pink and red tickled the air. Jormungand looked somewhere behind her. "Hel honey can you get us to the building?" Darcy closed her eyes, her head was heavy. What was that burning smell?

"Of course." Darcy felt herself being lifted ever so gently by someone. People really shouldn't be that strong, she thought, and then she knew nothing.


	7. Chapter six

**_Strong language coming ..._**

"What the _fuck_ happened, how did they even get near her?"

"I don't know dude, really fucking lucky aim, we were all around her!"

Hel paced in the surveillance room as her brothers argued on the screens. She cursed again at the stupid deal Thor had made her agree to about her father. She wasn't allowed near the med lab even though her friend had just been shot in the arm by alien weaponry. The door opened and Jane and Thor stepped inside. "How is the Lady Darcy?"

Hel rubbed her temples today was really just ... she ground her teeth in frustration. "She'll be fine. She is human and not very able to handle the blow of alien technology but it was only a graze and Jormy has convinced her magic to use his strength to heal the wound quicker. She'll be able to keep her arm, which was in question for a moment. I'm... I'm currently trying to think of something that will work better but she's OK for the moment."

They all stilled as they saw Loki wake in the room. He looked across sleepily to where Darcy lay in the other bed, the others crowded around. His voice was brittle as he asked what happened. Fandral moved over to speak to Loki, who looked _very disappointed_ in them, Fandral looking abashed. Before anyone knew it, Loki was hovering over Darcy, pulling a healing stone out of _somewhere_ and unbandaging the wound. He hissed when he saw the chunk the alien technology had taken out of her arm, close to the bone. "Look Jane! My brother is just as enamoured with the Lady as the rest of us." Jane giggled and Hel smiled for it was true. This behaviour was very rare for Loki Silvertongue. Something about Darcy had made an impression on the prince, obviously. They watched as he tenderly ministered to the mortal girl, her hair splayed out on the pillow and skirts spilling over the bed. They looked like some kind of fucked up fairy tale. To complete the odd picture, Buzz Light-year, a Yankees Baseball Player of some vintage, Wonder Woman and a generic cowboy spilled into the room then, and everyone but Loki and Fenrir moved over to talk to them.

Darcy woke as Loki was wrapping her arm back up skilfully. "Wonder what else those smart little hands are good at Mischief Man. Maybe I'll ask Sif." Loki's cheeky smile lit up his worn face and he said something in a low voice that none of them could hear in the surveillance room. Fenrir was fussing by her side and scolding her softly for flirting with his dad while Loki patted her hair and turned to mix up a potion.

"Oh hey I can do that Dad." Jormungand rushed to his side but Loki only gave him a root to slice, saying something about revenge and his mother's awful potions. Tony in his Buzz costume was about to stop the god when Hogan stepped in the way, saying in a stern voice that brooked no argument that they should clear the room. Hel could have kissed him. The Avengers started to argue but Darcy waved them off, saying they should enjoy the party. "You other peeps too! Hogan go get Hel and give her a drink! I want to hear stories of you two drunkenly making out in public tomorrow morning!" Hogan looked slightly offended but obeyed, pulling up his cowl and taking his scythe. Sif nodded to him as he passed, and Fandral stopped to talk to the Lady Warrior outside of the lab.

Only Loki and his sons remained, Fenrir fussing over Darcy and the other two working over at the bench, mixing up a complicated potion that Hel couldn't decipher from the screens. It made her tired heart well up, and she was startled to feel Thor's hand on her shoulder. "Niece you should join them. I realise I should not have brought this pain upon you. I release you from our pact. You should go see to your friend and your father."

Hogan walked in to find her hugging Thor, and Hel thought she caught a tiny smile flash on his features. She pulled him out to the hallway and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. "I'm going to go down and see father." Hogan nodded and wiped her cheek with his thumb. She stayed where she was for a moment, enjoying the contact before pulling away, her hand lingering on his for a moment. "I'll find you later." She blew him a kiss that she laced with the flavour of chocolate and he gave her a smile as the scent hit him. She smiled back, and disappeared.

...

Thor watched on the screens as Helen entered the med labs. Jormungand and Loki looked up and Darcy exclaimed from her bed. Fenrir didn't look too surprised and maybe he wasn't. He could see Loki and Hel having a quiet conversation and Hel moving in for a long hug, tucking her head under his chin. Loki hugged back, his skinny arms winding around his daughter as he closed his eyes. After a moment he looked up, directly at the camera, his eyes boring into Thor. Jane cleared her throat. "Maybe we should go up to the party, give them some privacy. Give him time, Thor."

Thor nodded, but didn't budge as he watched Loki release his daughter and turn back to his work, his large hand affectionately grabbing the back of Jormungand's crowned head as he reached across him for something. Hel watched on from her new perch on the counter next to them, making suggestions. Thor wondered what this spell was, he knew it was quite complex. Jane also watched in fascination. It was an eccentric display, these beings who were so clearly not human using a combination of magical techniques and the lab's scientific equipment, the costumes and Loki's pyjamas making everything all the more odd.

Thor hadn't spent much time with Loki and his children at the same time, it occurred to him. He'd never even thought of Loki as a father at all, preferring instead to always treat everything as if none of the business with Angrboda, even Sigyn had never happened. Or, if they did happen, he treated it like some mistake that Loki made and should keep hidden, not bothering the rest of them with the consequences of his mischief. What a fool he was. He was realising that he had much to make up for when it came to Loki. Loki, who had never seen Angrboda as a mistake, definitely not as mischief, and who loved his children, and grieved his separation from them. Finally he responded to Jane's earlier comment. "Yes, let us go up." He placed his finger on the screen, stroking the image of the back of his brother's head before turning and leaving the room.

...

Hel sat on the tiled counter in the med lab, watching her father and brother work. Their two types of magic were being utilised fully in the recipe, which Hel watched with enjoyment. She of course had both and so much more, but not everyone was conceived in the branches of yggsidril. Loki also had access to both, but that was through a thousand years at least of serious study and strict application. They were an odd family that was for sure. Her eyes trailed every once and a while to where Darcy dozed on the bed, eyebrows furrowed with pain. Fenrirr sat next to her, stroking her hair and whispering into her ear things the others could not hear.

It was all a little bit surreal, and Hel leaned back and took it all in, strumming at the guitar in her hands. Finally Loki took a strand of hair that he must have taken from Darcy earlier and mixed it into the potion. With a few choice words it turned from a gluggy green substance to a honey like amber coloured one and was done. Loki took a dropper and carefully measured out 17 ml and crossed to Darcy, who opened her eyes. "Now child, I need you to swallow this for me."

She smiled faintly and joked lamely about who'd supposed to be looking after who, but obediently opened her mouth and let Loki drop the potion on her tongue. Fenrir dropped a lingering kiss on her temple and stepped back. Loki brushed Darcy's hair with his hands and fussed over her until he saw a shimmering mist like rose gold escape Darcy's lips, then he also stepped back. Darcy's body went eerily still, her eyes falling closed, and the mist travelled over her body and surrounded her and her bed in a capsule, making her look even more like a princess from some fairytale. The spell was similar to the one Sif had given Loki, but it was even more complex. Hel couldn't fathom how her father had whipped it up so quickly. Of course it had helped that he had a few of the parts already made up and in storage, but still, it was incredible. The potion had frozen Darcy's bodily functions so that it could save all of her energy to rebuild her arm. The capsule was also pulling energy out of the air and earth around her for her own magic to use. It was genius, and seamlessly blended the two types of craft. Her arm would be whole in about three days time at Hel's guess. She whistled. She was actually super relieved Loki had been there to come up with that spell so quickly. Hel would have taken weeks to come up with a similar thing; Darcy would have been in a lot of pain that whole time. It really was a thing of beauty, even if her father was swaying on his feet with the effort.

" _Truly_ father you should not be working magic of this calibre in your state." Hel scolded him, but knew she wouldn't have been able to stop him if she'd tried. It was wise of him to use Jormungand's earth magic instead of his own, that would make some difference. Loki tiredly smiled at Hel in reply, telling her to shut up, and collapsed into a chair. Jormungand moved over to fuss over their father and Hel pulled a crystal bottle out of her interdimensional storage and magically siphoned the rest of the potion into it, and sealed the bottle. This was an amazing work of magic and worth keeping around if Darcy was a target. Her lips formed a line. Darcy shouldn't _be_ a target. No one should even know that Loki was here, let alone that Darcy had anything to do with him. She motioned for Sif and Fandral to step inside before asking the room, "How do you think they knew about her?"

Sif was frowning; Fandral looked dismayed, like he hadn't even thought about it. Jormungand sat on Loki's bed and leaned back on his hands, his large frame an intimidating figure in his fictional royal garb. Loki sat folded in the chair, playing with his lips. Fenrir was furious, but kept his mouth closed.

"Describe the beasts." Loki's voice was quiet, but it was no less a command for it. It struck Hel that he'd been every bit Papa Loki this evening and a small part of her celebrated. She'd have her father back before long.

Fandral was the one who spoke. "They were filthy. With short dark fur covering their limbs and face. They had a lot of teeth, faces a little like a hound, walked on two legs, and spoke in ... yips. I've never seen the like in my life."

Hel shook herself and created an illusion for them in the room at half scale. Loki studied it, and shrugged. He'd never seen them before.

"Do you wonder if it might have nothing to do with Loki at all?" Fandral suggested. "Lady Darcy is known to work closely with The Avengers Initiative. Apparently she is quite famous in certain circles. That is what Stark and Rogers had assumed- that it was because of them."

"Loathe as I am for my friend to be in any danger at all, I would prefer that to be the case." Hel said, and everyone nodded. Loki's whereabouts should be a secret for as long as possible. He could protect himself now that he was awake but he was still very weak.

Jormungand turned to Sif, "Lady, did you see these characters during your escape at all?"

Sif shook her head. "I did not. Most of the species I came across were humanoid or reptilian in nature. The base that Thanos had Loki in was very hot. As hot as the fire mountains of Muspelheim. These creatures look as if they live in a cold environment."

"They look like they've been living in the sewers." Fenrir spoke up.

"What colour was their blood?" Loki asked.

"It was red." Fandral offered an arrow he had retrieved.

Hel spoke up again, "I have the bodies in storage but I dared not bring them out in this environment. Perhaps I will join the party in order to beg a lab and some of Banner's time."

"No need." A voice came from the doorway where Tony, Banner, Hogan and Steve stood, still in their costumes. "I can take you there now, Marceline."

Hel smiled and nodded her thanks, losing her guitar into _somewhere_ , and hopped off the counter, her legs and arms aching from her long day. "Well then. Shall we take this away from the sleeping beauty?"

Fenrir and Fandral offered to stay with Darcy while the others, including Loki moved a ways down the hall, where Natasha, Thor, Jane and Clint already were gathered around a sterile metal table.

Hel motioned for them to move away and clicked her fingers. The large dead alien fell about half a meter onto the table. Clint whistled, "Dramatic."

Hel gave him a wry smile "I am my father's daughter after all."

Clint's eyes swivelled to Loki who was still in his pyjamas and studying the creature on the table. So was Banner and Tony. Jane was taking down notes that Banner was giving her. Hel wondered idly who would decipher them later with Darcy out of action.

Steve spoke up to the others, still gripping his baseball bat in one hand. "So ... did you want to start from the top?"

Jormungand nodded. "We all gathered in Darcy's apartment in the Village, had a few beers. And when Hel arrived she'd just had a little talk with our Grandfather..." he levelled his gaze at Thor who stiffened.

"The Allfather visited you?"

Hel sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, It seemed today was the day for the whole of Asgard to barge in on my day off. Hogan was the only one invited." She cheekily winked at the warrior and everyone's curious gaze swung to Hogan, who remained his impassive self.

"What...what did he want?"

Hel waved her Uncle off. "We can discuss that later Uncle. Carry on, Darling."

Jormungand nodded. "So she needed some time to decompress before the party, and I never really get to go out in the city because of..." He tipped his head "My quirks ... So I love Halloween. So we walked. After all, who would recognise us in costume? They hit us about two blocks from the tower. Appeared in an alleyway as we walked past. I was between Darcy and the street, so they hit her left side. Fandral and I had our bows and Hogan only has his scythe, so he covered Darcy while we attacked. Hel took one's head with a pistol-" He grinned at her and wiggled his eyebrows "Nice weapon by the way- and Fandral and I put a dozen arrows in this one." Clint was drooling a little, Hel thought with a smile. Yes, Jormungand made the right call with dressing as the elf king rather than Legolas, but that was beside the point. At this moment Clint was drooling at the precise kill hits Jormungand had landed with his arrows. It must be nice for the guy to not be the only one in the room who could use a bow.

Loki spoke quietly while studying his hand, rubbing the creatures' blood between his fingertips. "This creature is of Midgard. The weapon it used was not, but this beast is carbon based and ...manufactured of the substance of this planet."

Tony visibly gulped and Banner clenched his fists to gain control at the implications of what her father had said. Natasha's eyes narrowed and Sif looked grim. Her eyes connected with Hel's. Hel nodded and Sif spoke up. "There was a ... creature on the team I worked with in Loki's retrieval." She avoided looking at Loki whose eyes were burning through her as she spoke. "He was an incredibly intelligent being that was able to create very advanced technology, but he was a Midgardian beast called the racoon. He walked on two legs and had a foul temper, but I liked him. He didn't tell me of his creation but it became clear to me over our time together that there is no other of his kind and he has a dark past of much sadness."

Tony spoke up, pointing to Loki. "He was the one who opened Princess' complicated cell door?"

"Yes." Sif nodded at Tony, who looked impressed.

Hel nodded. "I will see if I can find them. It's probably time for Quill to visit home anyway."

Sif looked like she disagreed. "I am not so sure Mistress. They might still have a tail. It is not wise to bring the Guardians here."

Hel raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I think it will be fine. I am not without my resources and I have not been idle my dear Sif. You did your job exquisitely, and so did everyone else involved. They don't have a tail." She _shook_ herself into one of her black gowns, a delightful piece from Ellie Saab's 2015 collection with a black fur cloak which had been enchanted for warmth in the chill of deep space. Playtime was over and it was back to work for her. There was no rest for the wicked after all. Though, it was always nice to visit the Guardians on their ship. She should bring them some food... pizza? She looked up to see the Avengers all staring at her. They clearly hadn't seen her change before.

Jormungand laughed. One of her brother's cute 'quirks' was that his hair and eyes actually _glimmered_ when a little he laughed properly. "Oh this is normal guys. All part of her job. Girl's gotta have style when she is the Mistress of Death."

Tony whistled and Natasha smirked. Loki gave her a proud smile, making her heart fill. But Hel had work to do and surly raccoons to fetch. "I'll be back when I can. See if you can find out some more about this guy." She lazily motioned to the corpse then kissed her father on the cheek. "And get my father to bed soon. He's been magic-ing and he needs some rest. Jormungand, drug him if you have to." Loki went to hit her lightly and she shimmered out of the room before he could connect.

 _ **Hel's dress is here. I really enjoyed writing all their costumes!**_


	8. Chapter seven

They all blinked for a moment as Thor's niece disappeared from the room. Her presence was so very vibrant and _there_ that when she left suddenly it always took a moment to adjust to the wrongness of her absence. There was a lot of _thereness_ in the room come to think of it. Darcy had been telling him that all of the immortals had a presence that was something more than their bodies, and Thor had been thinking about that recently, among everything else.

Jormungand was still laughing about something, teasing Steve about his costume. Bruce was speaking quietly to Loki and Jane, Tony was talking to JARVIS and tapping away at his tablet while Natasha and Clint asked Sif more about her comrade. Thor was once again unsure of what to do. He thought on his father and wondered what he had spoken to Hel about. He certainly had given Thor no indication that he had planned to do anything of the kind. He wondered at the attack on Darcy and frowned, why Lady Darcy? "I shall go to the alley. See if there is any evidence that might help." Jormungand, Sif and Steve indicated their intention to join him, and they took their leave. Hogan muscled Loki off to bed, the Second Prince calling instructions for tests over his shoulder to Banner and Jane as his too thin frame was removed from the room.

Clint and Natasha said that they would go check Darcy's apartment to make sure it was all in order, leaving the building with Thor's group.

...

The October air was cold as they stepped into the street. The revelry was just getting started and Jormungand let the sounds of drunken fun wash over him as they walked. It was strange how fun sounded the same in every language.

He lead the group two blocks to the alleyway where they came across a couple in a compromising position. Jormungand smiled. "Don't mind us we'll just be over here." But the couple hustled off, probably a little intimidated by Sif's sword. In all of his years he had never met a woman like his father's friend. She was fierce indeed. The group combed the alley for anything that the two attackers had left behind. Hel had cleared the area before they had relocated to the tower, as they couldn't have manufactured species and alien technology just lying around New York city, but Sif found a hide bag in the alley and Steve located a device that could be how they had transported. It hust have skidded off when it was dropped. Satisfied with their search, they were about to leave when four more of the creatures turned up out of nowhere, opening fire on the group. One ended up without a head thanks to Sif's glaive and another's scull had some unfortunate contact with mojinir. Jormungand started as another appeared behind him and covered his mouth. The all too familiar sensation of disappearing came upon him he did as he had done in games as a child growing up with the cheeky Helen and Fenrir. He rolled his eyes and _thought_ of roots flowing out of his feet, digging into the ground despite the concrete and keeping him very much _there_. He could feel as the device continued to try to work but Jormungand only became more present. His skin hardened, becoming something between dragonskin and tree bark and his magical roots went even further, continuing to cement his very _presence_ rather than _absence_. It wasn't a pleasant experience, and all the magic he had worked with Darcy and his father had worn him out but he continued to hold on to New York City rather than to give in to the technological pull. It felt like hours but eventually he felt the intense shock of release as the creature or device let go and the others disappeared.

Jormungand took in a large breath and he gathered his wits and brought himself back to his normal form, his vision blurring as he realised he had been rather shot to bits during the altercation. He had been an easy target after all. Sif caught him by the arm as he swayed on his feet. "Easy, child. You did very well." She helped him sit on the ground and he looked up. There were seven corpses all up and Jormungand saw Steve on his stark phone, his costume a little torn up and baseball bat bloody. He'd somehow managed to keep his cap in all the confusion. He had a trail of blood down his neck and Jormungand had to admit he was quite a sight. It might be shock but he was finding the Cap quite alluring. Sif had a look of distaste on her mouth and her glaive and sword were covered with the blood of her enemies. Thor was barely winded, tucking mojinir back into his belt. Jormungand idly wondered why he wasn't in a costume, he'd heard something about Steve Erwin and was a little disappointed he didn't get to see that.

Soon enough some of Fury's people had turned up to deal with the mess and Sif helped Jormungand stand. He groaned, they really had gotten him good despite going all barkly. It had been some time since he had had any reason to fight so, and he was dreadfully unhappy that it had happened twice in one night. This is why he stayed on the farm. Flowers didn't give him this kind of trouble, they did what he asked them to and they didn't try to steal him where he stood. The idea shook him more than he would like to admit. He felt his Uncle's heavy hand on his shoulder when he slumped against Sif's side. He didn't say anything, silently allowing Thor to throw him over his shoulder to save his wounded legs. Thankfully he didn't try to talk, Jormungand wasn't really in the mood for conversation. They were all silent, actually as they piled into the elevator and went back upstairs to the labs to give their report. Sif had amazingly kept hold of the alien equipment in all the fuss, and had the bag over her shoulder. Jormungand wasn't sure, but he thought he had seen her fighting off about five of the beasts at once. There must have been many more than the seven that were left behind. They all had wounds from the weapons, and Steve looked haggard. He may be super, but he was still human. Jormungand thought again about how delicious he looked all ruffled up and bleeding. He bit his lip and looked away. It really wouldn't do to stare.

As they walked into the Tony's penthouse Jormungand was immediately accosted by his father, demanding to know what happened. Jormungand gave as good as he got. "I thought you were supposed to be in bed! Dad you shouldn't push yourself!" Thor dumped him gently into a leather lounge.

"I'm not going to sleep until the people I care about are safe." Loki scolded and Jormungand allowed him to peel off the tattered shirt of his costume and fuss over his wounds. They really should have been in the lab but it seemed like nobody wanted to disturb Darcy as everyone was there. Clint and Natasha arrived in the elevator with Bruce and the medical supplies and Pepper holding at least fifteen pizza boxes on a little trolley. The party may be over but she was determined to be a good host, bless her heart. Jormy cooed at her mini mouse costume and gladly took one piece and then another. It was good shit. He ate while his father looked into one eye and then the other, and tsked at the sheer amount of hits over his torso and back. They were hardly worth mentioning as his thick skin had had the bonus effect of acting like light armour. It hadn't stopped the hits but it had dispersed the heat and saved him from any dire wounds. Jormungand shifted to hide the decent sized wound on his thigh as he pushed Loki away. "Enough, Dad, I just need to sleep it off, I'm fine. Go help Sif."

He grinned as Sif glared at him from where she was slumped in a leather armchair, eating her pizza. She swung her death glare to Loki, who smiled and looked at her through his lashes. "I wouldn't dare insult the Lady thus." He hadn't even moved in her direction, but instead sat next to his son on the couch, eyes sweeping over the Goddess of War. Her glorious leather clad legs were stretched out before her, riddled with wounds from shrapnel and her left bicep looked to be sporting a decent scrape. Clint and Natasha were the real concern, they were fully human. Jormungand's eyes followed the archer as he strolled in with Natasha; they had both definitely been in a fight, though clearly with normal human guns and fists, not the crazy fire ball space guns they'd been hit with in the ally. Natasha grabbed a piece of pizza and collapsed into the couch next to her partner.

Tony looked from one person to the next, as they all sat eating their pizza, nobody actually looking that miserable, just irritated at an unresolved problem. "So? What the fuck happened?"

Natasha spoke up first. "We found someone in Darcy's apartment." She took another bite of pizza.

"Yeah, and thank _fuck_ , he was a normal human, with a normal human gun."

Tony turned to Jormungand. "And what the fuck happened to you Thranduil? You look like you just battled with Smaug all by yourself."

Sif spoke, still exchanging loaded glares with Loki. "The abominable creatures tried to take him. He used his magic to stay." Jormungand felt his father stiffen imperceptibly next to him, and he slumped back in the chair, leaning into his father ever so slightly in comfort.

Steve spoke up, gazing at Jormungand with a little more heat than he had expected. A little spark ran up his spine as he gazed back. "Yeah what happened? I saw him grab you and then you started to disappear, but then you sort of, got all solid and hard and then he started burning and then he was gone. I mean I was a little distracted but that's what happened, right?" Fuck, his confused face was adorable.

Jormungand sighed and broke eye contact. "Yes. I'm glad it worked. I learned to do that when Hel and Fen used to try to _take_ me by surprise when we were children. I wasn't actually sure it would work because the beast wasn't actually using magic, but science. It all added to the same thing though, I simply made sure that I was very _present_ here, so that I could not possibly _be_ anywhere else."

He felt Loki relax next to him. As if he couldn't take care of himself.

Tony frowned. "So ... the guy burned because..?

Jormungand shrugged. "I can't tell you precisely as I was pretty distracted and because he was behind me. I would guess it would either be because I accidentally set him alight or it was the tech reacting badly to the pressure. I don't know. I didn't even know there was any fire."

"You can set people on fire?"

"Yes."

Tony shrugged. "Cool. So do we have any information at all? You didn't happen to see where they were taking you did you?"

"No, I couldn't let it go that far, I had to take root or I was gone..." he quieted, barely suppressing the shiver that ran through him. "Magical creatures... there's a lot of things you can do to someone like me. I couldn't afford to be taken, I'm sorry."

"No, that's fine Jormungand." Said Steve. He was staring into space, trying to figure something out. "So they tried to shoot Darcy, they tried to steal you...What do they want?"

"It's been pretty sloppy. Messy. It's all just, messy." Sif said. "They practically burst on your blunt weapon."

Steve sighed, rubbing a battered hand through blood caked hair. "I have a feeling we can't really figure it out until Hel returns with some information. Everyone clean up and get some sleep, we can talk about it over breakfast. Tony." He threw the billionaire the bag, which he caught one handed. "Seeing as you and Jane presumably won't be sleeping, maybe you'd like to look at the tech. Don't do anything stupid." Tony waved him off as he and Jane eagerly opened up the bag.

Jormungand trailed off with his father to the med lab, wishing for home but not feeling brave enough to head there. He'd stay the night, at least to make sure his and Loki's potion had worked on Darcy.

In the lab Fenrir had already neatly laid out two bedrolls and some of Jormungand's clothing. He looked like he'd just showered and changed. Hogan was out in the hall, and Loki staggered into the room, climbing into his bed. "Do you need a potion dad?" Jormungand was a little worried Loki would be having nightmares this night.

"No, that's fine. Darcy's work is still at play. Go clean yourself up; you really do look like you've had a disagreement with a dragon." They both chuckled at the irony.

Jormungand took his crown off and looked at Darcy's prone form under her canopy of rosy gold spell work. So much for getting lucky. This hadn't been the worst Halloween ever, but it was on the list. He laid his elf crown near Darcy's bed and headed to the bathroom attached to the lab. He wondered idly what Steve would do if he turned up at his door tonight. Jormungand chuckled as he turned on the hot water. Captain America would probably offer him his bed and take the couch. The hot water was like a dream but the wound on his thigh stung like a bitch. He'd have to treat it after all. The shampoo was from Lush, and Jormungand laughed once again at the cute little witch Darcy, who was such a delight, getting Loki of Asgard to wash his hair with eco friendly hair products. It was good to be clean. He dried and slipped into some navy boxers, some of his favourites with dragons printed on them. Fenrir must have slipped home while they were upstairs and he was grateful to be in something clean.

On exiting the bathroom Jormungand tiptoed past his sleeping father to Darcy's stash of supplies where he grabbed an ointment she'd mixed up for burns and some bandages. He heard a soft cough behind him and saw his dad was totally not fooled. "Jormungand really." The exhausted prince sat up and patted the bed beside him. "Come here and let me do that."

Jormungand grunted a little with frustration, but crossed back to the bed. "You just done with year of torture and you are fussing over a tiny shot wound."

Loki clicked his tongue and snatched the pot of ointment from him. "I have spent all of your life trying to keep danger away from you children. I'm sorry if I fuss too much if the moment I come to the same planet as you , someone tries to snatch you off the street.

He rolled his eyes but smiled. "I'm not a child." He said, throwing back to his dad's comment from earlier in the day. That felt like weeks ago.

Loki's green eyes glittered and his smile was wry as he liberally spread ointment on his son's thigh, and then wrapped it. He then poked his side so that he could get to the burns on his back. "Oh, but you know I'll never think of you as anything else. Humour me."

They both looked to the door as a knock interrupted them. Steve was at the door, his eyes travelling Jormungand's exposed form, taking in his thighs, torso and wet hair reaching down his back. A blush crept up his neck. "Hey, uh, I was just ..." his hand went to his hair as his eyes slid to the bedrolls. "We can make up a room for you if you like; you don't need to sleep on the floor."

Jormungand smiled. "Thanks but... I've totally slept on worse. It will be fine. I'd rather hang out here if that's alright." He moved over to his bedroll and grabbed a sweater, throwing it on as Steve's eyes tracked his progress.

"Ah yeah." His throat worked. "Sure. Well, goodnight, let me know if you need anything."

"I will." Another bright smile for the Captain. He could feel his father's eye roll behind him.

"But I thought you were interested in that Barton fellow?" Loki queried sarcastically as soon as Steve was gone.

Jormungand laughed and turned the lights out. "I was."

The prince huffed a laugh in the dark as he watched his son crawl into his bedroll. The room was so cold; he almost regretted his choice to stay. Fenrir slipped into the room from wherever he had been and crawled into the bedroll next to him. Jormungand turned to him in the dark. "Where did you go?"

"I was just making sure we're covered for the next few days. I figured it would just be easier to stay here. I mean... I can take you back if you'd like, I know the city wears you out."

Jormungand stared at the ceiling, wishing he could see the stars. "Nah that's fine, I think we should sort this stuff out, Darcy's going to need a new place, I'd like to help her out if I can."

"Yeah Pepper's already on it, but I'm sure you and her could come up with something amazing in a few days."

Jormy snorted "Between Pepper and myself, we could redecorate the entire city in a few days."

"That would not surprise me at all."


	9. Chapter eight

Loki's dream took him to the feasting halls of Asgard. His lip curled in distaste at the all too familiar setting. His eyes sailed down the table, seeing faces he'd thought he'd never have to look upon again. He spotted himself at the top of the table with his family, and gave growl of frustration when he saw Sigyn by his side. Her paws on his arm and her simpering smile. She didn't even look at his past self, instead fluttering eyelashes at his brother and father. The dream rippled with Darcy's spell, still strong after a whole day in effect. His minds' eye was drawn to the guest of honour of that particular feast. He gasped in surprise as he spotted the love of his life in the first moment that he had seen her. Angrboda. Dressed in the traditional robes of the Fire Giants and eyeing his younger self across the table, her silver hair glinting and dark skin all but glowing in the fire light. He didn't often think of this night, instead dwelling on the pleasant memories of the nomadic life on the grasslands of Muspellheim. This night, however, was the beginning. His younger self leaned forward and started a polite conversation. "Queen Angrboda, I have read some very interesting things about the relationship the nomads of Muspellheimr have with dragons."

Angrboda had smiled a smile full of secrets, her eyes full of challenge. "Tell me, young prince, where you read such things, for our most sacred ways are not written down for any man to stumble across."

Loki had bowed his head at that, acknowledging her point. "I'm afraid you have caught me your highness, I admit that I have only gleaned the barest of tantalising hints in over many books by which I have sketched but a vague impression. It has only kindled my interest. Your people's ways are indeed most different from those of Asgard, and rich in truths those of my sex will never to be privy to. I admit that to a scholar such as myself it is rather frustrating." He quirked a self depreciating smile.

Angrboda smiled dangerously from under her strong silver brows, her eyes travelling him from his carefully arranged expression to his ink stained fingers. Her second, a huge woman named Mara had barked with laughter, her voice deeper than many of the warriors in the room. "A man would not know what to do with such information even were he to be allowed to know such secrets. The sons of man are too soft and inflexible to handle the magics of the Fire Giantess. Best study something you are like to understand, boy." The queen had held Loki's eye and smiled again, bringing a piece of rare meat to her mouth. He bowed once more, his eyes sliding to the way she was holding her knife, her long delicate fingers sat relaxed on the hilt, but ready should anything happen to need a response. He had watched Sif's hands behave so for as long as he had known her.

Sigyn, overhearing the end of the conversation had giggled into her hand in a way that Loki had never grown less than irritated at. "I believe you will find that my husband is the most intelligent and powerful sorcerer in the nine realms. I would be careful how you insult him; his love of mischief is only barely contained by his insatiable hunger for knowledge. If you have secrets, be sure to guard them well, for he is able to walk through walls and change form where he will to get at them. And I'm sure a bunch of women have better things to do with their time than to stand in his way."

Mara had stood abruptly, understandably enraged at the insult. Loki had shaken his arm from Sigyn, "Wife hold your tongue. You do not know what you speak of." He stood and bowed low to the nomads. "I apologise. I admit that my wife's words are true to a point, but only in certain circumstances. Please believe me when I tell you that I would never endanger your people's relationship with the dragons or commit insult to your sacred traditions, not matter how curious I might become."

Angrboda had remained seated, slightly amused, her eyes holding obvious and condescending pity for she read his marital situation clearly in their interaction. No, it was not a marriage of love, or even respect. Mara's wrath had not cooled completely, but she sat, watching Sigyn for the rest of the evening.

The meal had come to a close with no more events of note, and Loki had excused himself and taken to a balcony overlooking the ocean to cool his disquiet. Sigyn had forever been poking her head into business where she wasn't welcome, a spy for the Allfather, a thorn in his side. If she had been simply stupid, it would have been forgivable, for he had known and loved Thor for his whole lifetime. No, it was her poisonous nature that so repelled him. She had known that he was only making conversation; she had known exactly what she was doing. What she hadn't counted on was Angrboda's razor sharp wit, and cunning mischievousness that rivaled Loki's own. Admittedly, neither had Loki, and by the time he had found out, he was far from caring.

"Is it true that you can change form?" Loki had turned on the balcony to see the Fire Queen, her skin glinting in the dark, her violet eyes glowing with fire. Her gowns floated about her, their plunging neckline showing tantalising glimpses of throat and breast as silk was tugged to and fro by the salty breeze.

Loki bowed his head, dutifully swallowing desire as he answered. "Yes, Milady, though at this time it is only into a handful of shapes. Mostly animals." He paused, wondering how much he should tell. He was ever jealously guarding his secrets. "I have, actually been working on taking the form of a woman, though I haven't yet perfected it. Such an act would be seen as dreadfully unnatural and therefore dangerous in Asgard and I must practice in secret."

Angrboda quirked her head to the side, feigned confusion covering her face. "But how is that, when the female body is the height of all of creation? Would that every man could change thus. Could you imagine? They could share in the sacred rite of child bearing, become at one with Yggdrasil through creation. They could feel the tug of the moon in the tides, understand deeper the cycle of life. There are so many things the sons of men could learn, if they were only able." Her eyes were bright. She used a jocular tone but Loki could see she actually believed what she was saying, and once more this night his scholarly curiosity was piqued, as was his unquenchable thirst for more magical knowledge.

He grinned at her teasing tone. He liked this queen, this Sister of Dragons. He liked her, and he could feel the power emanating from her in waves like heat from a furnace. "Indeed, the distinction between genders is pronounced clearly here, and in the wrong direction for my tastes. I learned to revere the intellect and cunning of woman long ago. Women are keepers of secrets where men are in general rather inclined to brag and boast."

"I take it that it was not your wife who taught you such reverence, or who keeps such secrets."

Loki had blushed, embarrassed by her reference to his terrible effort at pretense with his wife. He was, by now an expert in lies and subtleties but where Sigyn was concerned he found he could rarely be bothered. He sighed, looking out toward the sea. "No, you are correct it was not she. It was in fact my mother, and also my friend, the indomitable Lady Sif who taught me thus long ago."

Angrboda nodded and smiled, for she had met Frigga, and spent time with her the day previous. "Well, Prince Loki of Asgard, if indeed you find that you can fully and wholly take the form of a woman, and it truly is knowledge you seek and not the desire to have dominion over women or dragon, you may come and visit my tribe on the plains of Muspellheim. I would treat with you and share some of our secrets. For seeing the dragons of the Fire Realm is indeed something to covet." Loki's breath caught, his eyes went wide, taken completely by surprise by the offer. Never in his eight hundred years had he ever felt so privileged as he felt then. Her tone became deadly serious. "Of course I need not warn you that such a visit must be in secret, I cannot abide a man in my camp except during certain celebrations. And if your wife was to follow you ..."

Loki barely suppressed a groan at the thought. He shook his head, his eyes open and without pretense. "Do not fear, my Lady Sigyn is far too attached to the Golden City to seek out her boring studious husband in the tents of Muspellheimr. Your offer is gracious indeed. I promise I will continue to hone my craft until I feel more a woman than a man. I will even endeavour to experience a full tide at least once before I step foot anywhere near your realm." He bowed low, and kissed her hand, his hand and lips burning as the ice in his magic met the fire in her own. There was a loaded gaze between them as they both felt the exquisite pain of such a thing. He swallowed thickly and released her hand.

Angrboda's smile held a tantalising hint of danger as she looked down at him. "Do so. I fully expect to host you within the decade. Don't disappoint me." She disappeared into the shadows and Loki found that for a moment everything had fallen away. All of the politics, the confining rule of his father, Thor's troubling pride and selfish behaviour, his ill fated marriage. For a moment, there was just a promise of further learning and the lingering scent of cinnamon on the air. He should have known the danger of such an association then, and maybe he had. But even now, reliving the moment Loki knew he would do it all over again, despite the pain and agony it cause in the end. Some things were just inevitable, and Loki was always going to love Angrboda.

...

The hall to the med lab was quiet as Natasha stalked, silent as a shadow toward the sleeping Asgardians. She had taken Hogan out early, a spit dart to the neck using the tranqs that brought the Hulk down when necessary. Through the doorway and a dart into each of the sons. She didn't like great hulking complications getting in the way of an interrogation. Her eyes darted to where Darcy lay on the second bed, surrounded by some form of blue electrical energy. It hadn't been there before. Before, she had looked like someone from a fairie tale in peaceful healing sleep. Now, she looked like she was trapped in some sort of torture device, her spine arching up as power rushed through her body, lifting it off of the bed. She wasn't breathing either. In a swift and practiced move The Widow was on top of Loki, pinning him to the bed with one of her favourite blades to his neck. He woke at the touch of cold steel. Natasha tutted, he really must be still healing if he hadn't heard her enter. The irritating Second Prince smiled as green eyes met green eyes. She gave him a cold smile back. "Did you have sweet dreams?"

The smile grew soft. His body was completely relaxed below her knees, ankles and elbows, his hands not even twitching under her thighs, speaking clearly of how seriously he took her threat. She could feel how thin he was under her; his hips and ribcage biting though the blankets, clavicle sharp ridges where his pyjamas gaped open at the neck. He blinked, his sunken eyes growing distant. "Indeed, they were sweet. Little Darcy has given me quite the gift. I admit I have not had such pleasant dreams for centuries." He inspected her face; the shadows she knew were under her eyes. "Maybe you should get her to mix you up some for yourself. It looks like you could do with some more sleep Lady Romanova."

Natasha allowed herself a smug smile. "Oh, it hasn't been dreams that have been keeping me from sleep; I would have thought you would know all about that." She felt Loki shift under her as she flexed her thighs minutely. No, she had not missed the loaded looks the prince had been sharing with her lover, or the way Sif had silently watched Loki while he slept all those weeks.

Loki gave a laugh of genuine mirth; it was surprisingly similar to one of Thor's. He gave a conspirational smile. "Indeed. How has _that_ been going? I hope all the _biting_ hasn't been getting to you? I do hope you've been enough to satisfy her, she is _quite_ a terror." If it was possible he relaxed even further, a thousand stories dancing in his eyes. "Did you know she _loves_ to have her hair pulled..." his smile grew sharp as the knife shifted minutely closer to his throat. He held her gaze, eyes crinkling in the corners. Insufferable man. Of _course_ she knew all about Sif's obsession with hair, her scalp was currently aching with it. Really though, it was no wonder when one took in the luxurious dark tumble of the warrior's first loves' locks currently spilling over his face, his shoulders in soft curls, tickling her at the wrist. _Damn it Widow._ _Concentrate._ Natasha scolded herself and shifted her eyes. _Enough of that_.

"What did you do to her?"

"Who, the child? We saved her arm. Little mortal that she is, not really able to cope with the kiss of a fire cannon. She was awfully lucky it only brushed her arm."

Natasha grimaced. She'd only had a small glimpse of the wounds the others had taken and imagining those gaping wounds on Darcy's tiny body..."So what about the electricity pulsing through her body, is she able to handle _that_ you mad bastard?"

The prince's eyes slid away from Natasha's face and widened as they took in Darcy's situation, not bothering to hide his surprise or consternation. Natasha swore. Not on purpose then. "Jormungand. Fenrir." Natasha couldn't be sure, but she thought she felt a _pulse_ of power travel through the room as Loki spoke. She suppressed a shudder. Sure enough, Natasha heard the sound of Loki's kids waking. She rolled her eyes. She pushed the knife closer still, letting steel bite Loki's neck as a satisfying trickle of scarlet flowed down his long neck. She suppressed the urge to lick her lips. A low growl from Fenrir in wolf shape interrupted her thoughts and she saw Jormungand's long form rousing from her ministrations in her peripherals and she swore in her native tongue. That tranq should have had them sunk for a few hours. Loki smiled fondly, proud of his freak kids. He would be proud, he was mad after all. But that wasn't fair, the boys were pretty lovely, and they were in the flower business after all. No matter that they could probably snap her over their knee...

She saw Loki's feline smile turn smug just before she felt the prick of a heavy blade at the base of her skull. _Fucking Asgardians_. "I would ask you to remove that knife from my Prince's throat." Sif's tone was definitely less loving than it had been two hours ago, for all it still held the sexy husk of sleep and other activities. She lifted the knife away, leaning back on her haunches regretfully. She heard a few expletives in some Nordic sounding language a second before the flat of the sword swept her off the bed to the ground, catching her in the stomach- hard. She scolded herself once more as she skidded backwards across the tiled floor. _Shouldn't have made him bleed_. She launched into a defensive stance, but Sif only held her own, sword at the ready and Loki wasn't even looking at her. Freed of her slight weight he rose and padded towards Darcy's bed. Sif stepped between them as Fenrir took point. Jormungand was a little slower on his feet, but he eventually brushed past Natasha as he crossed the room, rubbing his face sleepily. Natasha's gaze swept up his lithe form, dressed in cotton boxers and a Stussy sweater from the 80's. His long legs and strong thighs lead to a defined ass and muscular back that she could do something with, she really could. And maybe she had caught Sif's hair kink because the thought of trailing her nails through his mussed up silver-

Sif coughed and Natasha's gaze slipped to her. The warrior hadn't bothered putting on her armour. Her tall form had been hastily covered by the lacy slip and blue silk robe Natasha had procured for her from La Perla earlier that week. "Any updates on the Lady Darcy?"

Loki scowled, and Natasha saw him inspecting Darcy through the electric blue haze of her capsule over Sif's shoulder. It was Jormungand who spoke, scratching the silver whiskers that glittered thickly on his elegant jaw. "Natasha darling, what is the power source that Stark uses for the tower?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "He uses an arc reactor similar to the one in his chest." Another tsk from Loki.

Jormungand nodded, not turning from Darcy. "The spell was designed to shut down her systems and take energy out of the earth in order to repair itself. It seems the magic found the arc reactor. He pointed to her arm where the wound was half its initial size. There was a pretty nasty looking scab, but it wasn't looking quite so concave as it once was. "It seems that kind of power really sped up the process."

Loki sighed into his hand. An obvious perfectionist, he was irritated even though it seemed their spell had worked better than initially planned. "Do you think we should end it? Or let it complete its work? I'm really not sure her mortal form should be dealing with that much power coursing through her veins." Natasha was surprised to detect the faintest hint of genuine concern in his voice though it wasn't near enough for her tastes.

Jormungand clicked his tongue in gentle reprimand. "Father how could you not know? She's not any mere mortal. She'd be at least a quarter of something else I'd wager. That much magic, it would kill any normal human. Nah, she's got something else, she must have."

Loki shrugged. "You'd know." His gaze sharpened on Darcy as if he could see her genetic makeup where he stood.

Natasha growled in her throat. They were staring at Darcy as if she were a chunk of rock or a biological sample. She wasn't down with that kind of treatment of her former lover. She pulled out a gun and pointed it at Fenrir's big fat furry head, clicking off the safety. Did she just see the Big Bad Wolf _eye roll_? "Switch it off. _Now."_

Loki turned and flicked the index and middle fingers of his right hand. The gun went flying from her grip. Natasha swore and bent backwards at the waist as Sif's sword came her way. _Ok, enough of the threatening I get it_. She spun and leapt onto Loki's bed using it to launch herself towards Darcy and several things happened at once. Jormungand caught her mid flight, his long arms wrapping her middle and swinging her round to absorb the momentum. The two hit the ground hard, sliding across the floor in the opposite direction from where she had intended. There was a cracking sound and a lilac mist floating through the air, and Steve Roger's voice sounding surprise as he arrived and took in the scene. Natasha lashed out with her elbow and caught Jormungand in the jaw as a firm rich female voice said quietly " _That is quite enough_."

Natasha felt a queer sensation as all gravity lost its power over her, that lilac mist surrounding her. Jormungand released his grip on her waist as she was lifted into the air. She kicked and writhed, trying to sink herself lower but it had no effect; she was under the power of Hel, who was looking quite disappointed with her. "I leave for twelve hours and this is what you decide to do." She clicked her tongue, hand on her hip. "You disregard our alliance, threatening a Prince of Asgard -my father- who is still recovering from grave injuries. You drug my brothers and love interest, and then you jeopardise my friend's healing spell by launching yourself at her recovery capsule. What the actual Fuck Romanova? I was under the impression that you were a professional. I have to say I'm very disappointed. I would've expected such a rash move from a few of the others but not you."

Natasha didn't bother with a reply; she just pulled herself into lotus position mid air like it happened to her all the time. She really didn't feel at all sorry. Though Sif's glare was getting to her.

Jormungand laughed gaily and rubbed his chin, it hadn't even bruised. He remained sprawled on the ground; his boxer shorts rucked up precariously where his thigh met his hip. The bulge to the left was impressive to say the least. Natasha shook her head to clear it. She felt like she was going mad or stuck in a weird fairy tale. Jormungand tipped his chin at Hel. "Hey darling, how was space?"

Hel sighed and shed her cloak, the item disappearing before it hit the ground. The woman may have had a taste for drama but Natasha had to admit she did it with style. "Space was good. I couldn't find much information though, that lead was a bust. I have my people hunting." She looked at Darcy. "Her magic found the arc reactor?"

Jormungand laughed, "You saw that coming? Damn. I admit I sort of missed it."

"Yeah, I can feel it whenever I'm within a few blocks of this place. Pretty irritating actually." Hel's smile was crooked. She reached gingerly through the energy field and stroked Darcy's forehead fondly, her arm looking blue inside the capsule. "She'll be right in no time."

Steve shuffled his feet in the doorway. "Uh, so...everything's alright in here I take it?"

Loki huffed a laugh, and Fenrir made a wolfy sound like a laugh. Jormungand gave Steve a cheeky smile. "All good here Sweetie. Did we wake you?"

Steve blushed and his hand went to the back of his neck. Natasha smiled quietly from her perch in the air. _Captain America has a little crush_. "No, I just... had a feeling." His eyes swiveled to Hogan's crumpled form next to him and he gave Natasha a disappointed look. She bit at her lip. She hated that disappointed look. Steve bent and pulled the tranq dart out of Hogan's neck, pocketing it and moving his hulking body into a position that was gentler on his neck and back. _Always the gentleman_. Hel stalked over and placed two fingers over the tiny barb wound, concentrating. She narrowed her eyes and _pinched_ and _pulled_. A stream of what Natasha assumed was the tranq fluid left Hogan's bloodstream at the strange woman's bidding, coiling after her fingers. Natasha repressed another shiver. _Who are these people?_ The warrior stirred. Steve scratched his head, a quizzical expression on his face. He looked up. "Well, uh, do y'all want some breakfast?"

Fenrir slipped into his humanoid form and Jormungand rose from his place on the ground. "I could eat."

America nodded, and exited the hall. Jormungand pulled on some worn jeans and made towards the door, followed by Fenrir. After the boys had left Sif turned to Natasha, her eyes cold and distant. "Understand, Romanova, that no matter what has happened between us in the past - If you _ever_ threaten a member of the royal line of Asguard again, it will be my blade that strikes your belly next time." 'In the past', Natasha guessed that was it for their little affair. She groaned in frustration.

Loki raised his eyebrow at Sif, deliberately running his eyes down her figure comically. Natasha huffed indignantly, but Sif only punched Loki in his skinny arm, her silken clothing slipping beautifully over her body with the movement, which brought a teasing smile to Loki's lips.

When Loki turned to at Natasha, all mirth disappeared from his face. "Do not threaten my children again." Was all he said. His eyes held promise of a million deaths. Natasha swallowed and bowed her head, it really wasn't worth fighting them on this. Hel clicked her fingers and Natasha had barely enough time to arrange her legs to catch her before she hit the ground in a crouch. She fetched her gun from across the room and exited as silently as she had entered, not bothering to give the looming immortals an answer. She needed a shower and some hours in the gym. She imagined that either Tony or Steve or both would seek her out to berate her later and she needed to get a hold of her temper before they did.

This morning had been a mess she really could have done without.

...

Loki sat on the chair next to Darcy's floating form, deep in thought. He'd asked the others to switch the lights out as they reluctantly left him behind, leaving him softly illuminated by the power in Darcy's capsule. He had begged off breakfast, not game to try solid food just now and defiantly not willing to be in the room when Thor found out about the events of the morning. No, he would much rather stay in the quiet. Sif had returned, fully dressed in her armour. Loki had only half jokingly expressed regret at the wardrobe change, earning himself another solid knock to his arm. Sif had then caught his chin, tenderly tipping his head back so that she may inspect the mark the Spider had left on his neck. He pushed her away; any wound that blasted woman had made had already healed over. Loki would have been touched if he didn't know that Sif's concern was only ever for Asgard, the reason she guarded him so jealously was that somehow his _first_ adoptive father had not struck him from the line of succession, the old fool. Loki rubbed his forehead at the headache that had taken root there. In truth he was very tired. His sleep had been interrupted too often over the last twenty four hours and it was having a bad effect on his healing body. There was a soft knock on the door frame. Loki looked up to see his youngest son entering the room. "Fenrir, darling. How was breakfast? Don't tell me they've already finished quarreling."

Fen smiled. "Nah, I uh, I just traveled to New Orleans to get you some food. Here, it's one of my favourites, gumbo."

Loki looked into the small steaming pot that his son opened and inhaled the scent of seafood. He raised his eyebrows. It was not the most beautiful food he had ever laid eyes on, but he knew that that didn't always mean very much once you were out of the palace. Volstagg, for one was famous for making ugly meals that tasted divine."What is it?"

"It's a delicious concoction made of beans and seafood. Would you like to try some? It's not really breakfast food but I figured you weren't really up to eating a stack of pancakes just yet."

Loki nodded silently, not trusting his voice as a wave of gratitude towards his son at such a lovely gesture. He may have had the worst fathers in all of the universes but by the Norns he had the best children in any land. He watched his youngest boy procure a large earthen mug and fill it with bug like creatures and black liquid and beans. His nose flared at the delicious smell and his stomach growled embarrassingly. Fenrir huffed, amused and filled up a bowl for himself, pulling out a loaf freshly baked and breaking it for them. Loki ignored the bread but made short work of the soup. "More?" Fenrir asked and Loki smiled, nodding.

"Son it is quite delicious. Where is this New Orleans?"

Fenrir passed his bowl back, filled once more and his eyes grew distant. "Louisiana. Oh, dad it's really wonderful. I love it. It's here in America, in the south. The weather is hot, thick with humidity but the food and culture is just amazing. I mean, their music is...You've got these big, voluptuous women and men who have such rich voices and they sing and dance with all of their soul. And there is this ancient earth magic that is a little creepy and their food is a mix of a few different influences but mostly French. Mmmm, this bread is so good." Fenrir had pulled out a jar of homemade jam and spread it on a piece of the bread, and was now on his second slice. Loki smiled. Fenrir wasn't exactly a talker, but there were a few subjects that would make him light up as if by mage light. His passions were varied but generally centred around culture lived well and crafts truly mastered. He leaned back and closed his eyes as his son went on to tell him all about this strange music, jazz that was like something alive. He felt himself slipping off to sleep and let himself go, lulled by his son's soft undulating tones and the warmth of the delicious stew in his belly. Truly these were times of such surprising precious moments.


	10. Chapter nine

The kitchens of the residential component of Stark's tower were in uproar when Fenrir slipped in, still chewing on a slice of bread slathered in jam. Hel spotted as he slinked in silently and sank into a chair at the long wooden table. Thor barely even registered his entrance as he continued to berate no one in particular about the various events of the morning. She let him rant, she was no less pissed off. Not only was her brother sporting some nasty wounds that she still had yet to hear about but her family had been threatened by a deadly assassin who was supposed to be on their side. She had to admit she truly hadn't expected betrayal from that quarter. Barton, sure, Tony? Likely. But Natasha? Hel had thought she would have been able to see the strategic need for Loki. It didn't matter that she and Darcy had been fucking not too long ago, that was no reason to risk alienating one of the most dangerous beings in the universe. Besides that, Darcy was perfectly fine, making the whole damn event unforgivable.

"Thor, we're all on your side in this. Romanov went rogue, what do you want me to do?" Tony sighed, frustrated but used to his comrade's temper tantrums.

Thor bared his teeth, his rage causing a clash of thunder outside the window. Hel sighed. "Thor, what have we agreed about you handling your emotions and keeping the weather under control?" Hel jumped in.

"Please, think of the flower farmers." Jormungand chimed in. Hel couldn't help a fond smile for her brother. He sat at the other end of the table, digging into a stack of pancakes with gusto and pretending to be ignorant of the frequent stolen glances that both Barton and Rogers were sneaking from where they stood with Thor in the kitchen. She sighed again as she toyed with her own, considerably smaller breakfast. It was like a grade nine classroom in here.

Thor took a moment with his eyes screwed closed, chest heaving before he closed a fist and the storm shut off outside. "Thank you." Hel said politely before daintily eating a forkful of pancake and bacon slathered in maple syrup. God bless the Canadians for that particular piece of culinary genius. "Now perhaps we can all sit down and eat like people while Tony tries to wrangle his resident Russian Spider." She shot Tony a semi apologetic look at his crestfallen expression, but it was his home she had been sneaking about with her knives and guns and fucking _tranq darts_ without detection. Where JARVIS was at the time Hel had no idea. "Instead of behaving like a pack of wild animals fighting over a scrap of meat." She heard a jocular huff from her younger brother and quickly added sarcastically. "Not _wolves_ , you understand as they are the height of animal culture and kings of the wild lands." She took a sip of coffee. Damn, that was good. She took another sip, closing her eyes in bliss.

Both of her brothers were laughing and Tony made confused face. Really he was so cute. "Why is it you three out of everyone that are joking around about this?"

Thor sat heavily in one of the large chairs at the table and groaned. Hogan spoke up from where he was nursing a coffee next to Hel, looking worse for wear after Natasha's treatment. "The three children of Loki have been in far greater danger so often in their lives that they have learned not to dwell too much on it. Their lives are nearly always in danger from some angle... Perhaps not you so much these past few centuries, Hel." She smiled fondly at her latest love. No, not so much her. Not anymore.

"Excuse my ignorance but... why? I'm gathering it isn't just because your father is kind of an asshole."

Thor chimed in. "I suppose some of it is because my brother has a habit of ... annoying people." All three of the 'children' in question laughed. Thor continued, not joining with their mirth. "But most of the issue is the fact that they are royalty twice – no - thrice over."

"Thrice?" Steve asked, all but counting out on his fingers as he struggled with the math. Hel smiled as she watched him.

She decided to end his misery, ticking them off on her long fingers for effect, and casting her voice like a skard. "Loki Silver tongue was born first of Laufey, the late King of Jottenheim." She didn't mention the fact that Loki had betrayed and killed Laufey, as it wasn't applicable to the conversation. That was a story for another day. "He was then 'adopted'" That particular word was dripping with sarcasm for her father was arguably stolen. "By Odin, Allfather of the nine realms and High King of Asgard... And then there is our mother," Hel's voice softened here, and grew quiet. "She was the Fire Queen of the eight tribes of Muspellheim, The Sister of Dragons. And that, my friends, is how we can the thrice royal. Though not too many know of our connection to Laufey and The Allfather doesn't _exactly_ acknowledge us as part of the line there are many who see us a danger, particularly because of the dragons."

"The dragons?" Clint's eyes were wide.

"Yes." Jormungand looked smug, as well he would, the brat. "Dragons." His lovely eyes glittered with secrets untold.

Hel interrupted before any more could be said on _that_ subject. "It's a long story for another time, or preferably, never. The other, probably most significant reason people are not likely to ever let up trying to end our lives is something you will be familiar with as it is part of your myths here on earth."

"Ragnarok." Fenrir was staring into his coffee, face no longer showing any sign of humour. His hand was holding a napkin in a fist, his knuckles white.

"Ragnarok." She repeated. The reason for so many trials and tragedies in their lifetimes. "There have been many who would prevent such an event by imprisoning, torturing or attempting to murder the more frightening elements of the prophecy, no matter if they were children at the time, or avowed to keeping peace." She laughed, a bitter, brittle sound. "It's funny, that never really happened to you, Thor, though you play a very large part in the prophesies. Or the mighty Heimdall for that matter. Or in fact Odin, which is hardly a surprise as he was undoubtedly the source of much of the violence. Can you imagine, being so terrified of your son, or your grandchildren that you could chain them in a cave in the middle of the Siberian Tundra, Or a sea cave in order to quench a fire. Or..." Hogan laid his hand gently on the small of her back as tears slid down her cheeks, her eyes on her brothers, who were both allowing themselves to look miserable. Her shoulders shuddered with restrained sobs.

Thor leaned across the table and took her hands into his own, gently pushing her forgotten plate away. "I'm so sorry Hel."

The sarcasm in her reply could have cut her uncle like a knife. "Sorry? What _eve_ r would you have to be sorry for, _Uncle_ Thor? Whyever would _you_ have any cause for reg-" Hel knew she was getting away from herself and abruptly stopped.

Thor, to her surprise answered her, though it was obvious her questions had been rhetorical. His voice was soft and his face filled with real apology. "Because I chose not to see where the truth was clearly laid out in front of me. My father-" Tears streamed down his face and he looked into her eyes. He shook his head, refusing to lay blame but instead taking it upon his shoulders. "I chose to believe that your father had been making mischief, purposely disrupting the court and so I accepted the Allfather's harsh punishments as just when they were not. I believed that you were-" Hel held up her hand as she could not bear to hear it. _Monsters. Unnatural_. Where the words Odin had used. _Dangerous. Threat_. Were what he'd actually believed, but Thor was not so subtle, he'd none of the Frost Giant love of word play, of speaking one word out loud and clearly meaning another. He had only things such as truth, and honour, and had no reason to believe anyone held anything else. How Thor could be the son of Frigga was anyone's guess. "Those words plague your family- our family and it has to end. And so I apologise for my part."

She only said "Those questions were rhetorical." And sniffed, trying to find her dignity once more.

Thor's smile was wan, wet with tears. "I know, but they have long deserved an answer."

The room was quiet, no one really wanting to be the next to speak. Jormungand stiffly went back to his meal, his back straight and eyes veiled by silver lashes as he processed the words that were just flung about in public. Hogan followed suit. Fenrir stood and took some time to himself on the balcony outside his shoulders stiff as he leant on the balustrade, feigning interest in the view. Tony left, presumably to berate Natasha. Hel heard the others moving and the clattering of dishes around her as she and Thor continued to look at each other, his hands holding hers, speaking a thousand things in silence. Thor was ready, then. Ready to try to mend the bridges Loki had burned so long ago to protect his family. Hel nodded and broke eye contact. She gently tugged her hands away but not before Thor gave them a squeeze. She leaned back and bent to whisper in Hogan's ear, proposing a nap. He nodded solemnly, finishing his meal and they both left the room together. Hel exchanged one more look with her uncle before Hogan lead her away, towards his borrowed rooms down the hall.

He tugged her gently inside his apartment, and softly closed the door, leaning on it and watching her quietly. She wilted a little once they were alone, her hands shaking. "Well. That was embarrassing and incredibly awkward." Her joke fell flat. Hogan was, of course, one of the tougher crowds she'd ever had. His face remained grim, though his eyes were soft.

"You have every right to lose composure every once and a while. You three have survived many horrendous things, over the centuries." She stepped forwards and he pulled her to him. She moulded her body to his, leaning into the door with him. He was so warm, and smelled of leather and the oil he used to clean his weapons. She breathed him in. He kissed her on the top of the head, but made no other move. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the crook of his neck, his course hair ticking her cheek. Who knew Hogan the Grimm would be such a good hugger? Slowly, she felt the anxious knot in her belly uncoil, her shoulders relax. Eventually she pulled away and she asked "Would you mind if I claimed you bed for a little while? I'm so tired."

He nodded and if she didn't know better she would think the smile he gave her held mischief, but his tone was as serious as always. "Only if you don't mind sharing it, neither of us have slept this night."

Hel smiled as well, taking his hand and pulling him away from the door. She looked at his armour. That was definitely coming off. She walked backwards in the direction she assumed the bedroom was in, one hand pulling him after her and the other working at a buckle on his side. He smiled again and helped her out. In the hall outside his bedroom he took her by surprise, angling her into the wall, his lips on hers gentle but eager, his tongue losing no time in seeking entry to her mouth. She allowed it, her teeth scraping at his bottom lip, hands continuing to work at his armour. Hogan's hands buried themselves in her hair, tugging gently to adjust the angle of her head in order to deepen their kiss. She sighed. Oh, this was good. This. This was lovely. His talented hands slid down her neck, and shoulders to her waist and her own forgot what they were about, her arms curling above her head as his lips travelled from her mouth to her temple, behind her ear, her neck... "Hgnh, Hogan." She whispered as his hands gripped her hips firmly and he manoeuvred one of his thighs between her own. She wanted his mouth back. She reached for his head and pulled his lips back to hers and pushed away from the wall in order to get closer to him. She wanted...oh how she wanted. "I've wanted this for so long." She managed to say before he claimed her mouth again. She'd totally thought she'd be the one leading things, and how wrong she'd been. He picked her up, his hands gripping her ass to do so, and she happily wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked them into the bedroom. He placed her gently on the edge of the bed, remaining on his feet, bending at the waist and kissing down her neck as she felt his hands travel ever so slowly down her body. They had just found her breasts when a knock sounded at the door. They both froze. "Fuuuuuck." Hel groaned, her hands knotted in Hogan's hair. "If that's Fandral you tell him he'd better run because I'll kill him, I swear I'll kill him." She said breathlessly as she allowed her head to fall back on the bed.

Hogan actually laughed from where his head was buried in her shoulder. Another knock. Some very colourful Vanir language. He went to pull away and Hel refused to let go of his hair for a moment, his head hovering just above her. He looked into her eyes and kissed the corner of her mouth. "I'll come back."

She groaned as his hands slid away and she threw a knife at the wall to show her frustration, earning her another laugh from the warrior. He slipped from the room, closing the door gently behind him. Hel huffed in frustration, blowing some hair from her face. She stared at the ceiling as she listened to the muffled exchange of deep voices at the door. It was Thor. Trust him to have the tactlessness to interrupt them right now.

Hogan rejoined her with a look of devastation on his face. She sat up. "What's wrong?"

He shook himself. "Sorry, I'm just..." He started buckling his armour back on. She watched his fingers work in exactly the opposite direction to what she would wish. Damn it, would she ever get to see him naked?

"Will I ever get to see you naked?" she whined, pouting as she stood and crossed the room to help him straighten his hair.

He sighed, a sad sound to match the miserable expression he was looking at her with. "My Lady I assure you the feeling is reciprocated." His eyes were downcast, his lips red and swollen. "I wish that I could stay and finish what we started but the Allfather has summoned the Lady Sif and me to report. Volstagg just arrived with the summons and to take my shift." She narrowed her eyes. If she didn't know better she'd say Odin was doing this on purpose. But she did know better, she'd hidden them from Hiemdall's gaze. She took his face between her hands and gave him a goodbye kiss to remember, shoving her thigh between his legs and making him groan into her mouth. His fingers dug into her hips as he gave back what he was given. "Lady." Lips. "I must go." She ran her tongue over his teeth, another groan. "Lady." She kissed his cheeks, the corner of his mouth, his eye lids. His hands travelled up her back. She couldn't actually believe this was happening. She sighed and pulled away, his hands sliding over the lace of her dress as she retreated. His look was forlorn. "I will see you soon, I hope."

She nodded; she had no idea when that would be. She nibbed at her lip. She couldn't bear to walk out of that door. "Tell them I had to get back?" He nodded, understanding and she traced his cheek with a thumb before she sighed, and disappeared. She left her knife in the wall for him to remember her by.

As she arrived in her rooms and peeled off her dress and her incredibly wet underwear she swore in about seven different languages. By the Norns she would have her revenge. She wished Darcy was awake to drink with. A scalding hot shower. A hot shower and a nap. That, at least she could do.


	11. Chapter ten

_**So much making out ...**_

Jormungand had to admit to himself that he was thoroughly knackered. He walked into the elevator and reached for the button for the medical floor, hating even that movement. His body had been healing like his life depended on it, sapping all of his energy. And he didn't know whether that was elephant tranq or what the Widow had used on him but that bad bitch should think twice before using it again because the subsequent ache in his skull was relentless. He felt like Thor and Heimdall were having a particularly loud sword fight in there or something. And then there had been the fucking emotional family blow up over breakfast. Man, Hel really knew how to make a scene. She likely had known exactly what she was doing but couldn't she have given them the slightest warning? He tiredly nodded to Fandral as he passed into the med lab and stopped at the sight before him. Loki was asleep in the chair next to Darcy's bed; his long hair wet form the shower and wearing fresh set of pyjamas. These were too big, the loud print on them enshrouding him with all manner of giant tropical leaves, and a few emerald pythons thrown in for good measure. So that was fucking adorable. But then there was the fact that he had reached out a hand to softly grip Darcy's, his head laid on the bed beside her. Her amazing little spell must still be in effect because his face and shoulders were completely relaxed in sleep, the tiniest smile in his face. Jormungand waved a hand over his father's forehead and smelled roses and ginger. Fuck yeah, that tiny work of magic was still in effect. He whistled. Well, at least one thing had gone right in the last few days.

Jormungand turned his attention toward the floating fairytale princess. Her still body was lifted from the bed, filled to the brim with energy from the arc reactor. The question was, if he took her out of the spell now, how much of the energy would remain in her system, and what would it do when it had no clear instructions or outlet. It could very easily burn out her organs or something, or, you know, give her unexpected superpowers. He paused as he noticed a pulse of energy flow over the knuckles of Loki's free hand. He leaned closer and saw that as usual, his dad was a few steps ahead of him. No, he wasn't holding Darce's dainty hand in an uncharacteristic sign of affection, but he was creating a pathway for the energy to escape her body once the spell broke, which was far more like the Loki Silvertongue they all knew. He sighed gratefully, and ran a hand through his hair. Well that was that problem taken care of.

"Need any help?" Jormungand turned to see Steve hovering by the door just as his brother entered the room from the bathroom, freshly showered and towelling at his hair.

"Uh, the person who could really help is my sister but she buggerd off back to Helheim and all its happy souls." Jormungand said gruffly, or as gruffly as he ever got, which wasn't really gruff at all. "But I guess you guys can help. Ah." He rubbed his temples with his thumbs while thinking of logistics. He grabbed a light sleep potion, to help ease Darcy's body back into the land of the living, and he turned to the half dressed Fenrirr. "Hey you, get over here." He noticed that Fen's beard was still dripping. He never seemed to take the time to dry properly it was hilarious. He flicked the end of the beard and water went everywhere. Fenrir pushed him in the chest. He could hear Steve chuckle behind them. "OK. So we ah..." He rubbed at the back of his head and looked at his brother sheepishly. "The spell needs to be broken by true love's kiss."

"Jormungand." Fenrir all but whined and shoved him again, Jormungand danced backwards laughing. "What the fuck? We're not- We haven't even..."

He shrugged "Well, you know, traditionally that is how the spell works; it's a twist on the Sleeping Beauty thing. Didn't you know? That's where Hel found the original spell from that she used on Dad. Any way it's not what you think. We wanted it to be really specific. You need to give her a tiny lick in your wolf form."

"That's why you needed my saliva?" Fenrir was super flustered it was hilarious.

Jormungand bit his lip and looked at him innocently. "Well it wasn't like Dad or I were about to kiss her. I mean I could. Maybe i'm her true love?"

He had to run and hide behind Steve to escape a punch in the face. "Hey, whoa. So are you saying...?" Steve turned around to look at Jormungand, a little embarrassed he had to ask. "That Sleeping Beauty..."

"Actually happened? Yeah. A few times. There are certain stories that keep repeating. Unfortunately one of those times it was Hel who was cursed. It's a pretty handy spell though when not used for nefarious and creepy purposes." Steve didn't answer, clearly thinking of the half told tales of the morning. Jormungand placed his hands on Steve's shoulders and ushered him to Darcy's bedside. "Alright my Captain, I'm going to need you to be a hero and catch her when she falls. She's going to be a little bewildered and disorientated, it will be adorable. I'll have to administer a light sleep spell so that her body and brain can do some adjusting in a healthy, normal sleep, as opposed to the state that she is currently in. Fenrir will be a wolf, so he won't be able to catch her." His brother rolled his eyes and transformed. The fucker was absolutely huge when in wolfy form, his wolf back reaching Jormungand's very high elbow, and his giant wolf head higher still. Steve strolled over to the other side of the bed and readied himself for beauty catching duty.

Jormungand broke the wax seal on the potion in his hand and nodded to Fenrir. He wondered if he should wake his dad but shrugged, he'd leave him to his nice dreams, his body would be using all that excess energy to finish healing and sleep could only help with that. Wolfy leapt gently onto the bed and passed into the capsule, looking a little like he was under water in the blue light. He sniffed Darcy's hair and nuzzled her neck. He then tenderly licked her on the cheek and leapt softly from the bed.

Sleeping Beauty gasped, inhaling the rose mist and most of the blue light in one go. The power travelled from her to his father, who's back arched but otherwise stayed unchanged. It was a moment before Darcy fell into Steve's arms and breathed in again, opening her eyes in shock. "Heeeey doll, easy it's all OK." Steve's soothing voice sure made Jormungand calmer and Darcy looked marginally less terrified. He stepped forward.

"Aliens! The gun! Jormungand they shot me!"

Jormungand ran his thumb between her brows and his fingers through her hair. "Yeah, you're totally right but it's all OK, you're safe now. I'm going to need you to take some medicine."

Darcy looked up at him, her eyes fantastically blue with residual energy from the arc reactor, her body spasiming every few seconds as it left her body. "Fenrir?"

Fenrir stepped forwards, back in humanoid form, and Darcy's eyes widened comically at his shirtless state. Jormungand held back a snort. The darling girl was so cute. Fenrir leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. "It's OK baby take the potion. I'll be here when you wake, and you'll feel a lot better." He kissed her again and pulled back. Darcy looked at Steve, and Fenrir and then Loki, whose hand she thankfully hadn't let go of. She closed her eyes, and then looked at Jormungand, giving him a faint smile.

"Thanks Magic Man."

Jormungand laughed and stroked her hair again, lifting the vial. "You ready my little witchy witch? You need to swallow all of it. And we'll see you when you wake up." Another spasm rocked her body.

"Totally." She opened her mouth and Jormungand poured in the silver liquid, her eyes dropping closed almost immediately. She relaxed into Steve's arms, her head lolling on his shoulder.

"I told you. Adorable." Steve grinned and tenderly laid her down, Jormungand steadying her head and placing it on the pillow, her hair fanning out beatifically. They stepped back; Fenrir spread a blanket over her sleeping form, one of their grandmother's. The most beautiful needlework depicting a pack of wolves streaming down a hill on a vivid red background. Jormungand sighed and brushed a hand over the fine wool; thank gods that was over with. Now he could finally sleep. He touched a hand to Steve's shoulder. "Hey, ah, you know how you mentioned spare rooms?"

Steve blushed. His hand going to the back of his head. "Yeah, ah, you know they're all sort of taken now that Volstagg is here... but I mean, you can totally crash at my place." Jormungand smiled sweetly, easily hiding the smugness he felt.

"Really? That would be amazing, you know if you try to sleep around here you end up getting interrupted or, you know, tranqued or something every few hours. I just need a few hours of uninterrupted shut eye to catch up." Steve winced at the mention of the tranq.

"Yeah, totally, ah, follow me." Jormungand couldn't help but notice Fandral's less than subtle thumbs up and wink and he allowed the smugness to show on his face as he walked past the warrior. They may have even exchanged a silent high five but Steve was oblivious. He turned back to see Fenrir's eye roll and subsequent fond grin as he waved him away.

In the elevator Jormungand remembered that he was going to speak to Pepper about living arrangements for Darcy. He mentioned it to Steve, who looked to the ceiling. "Hey Jarvis would you please ask Pepper if she would mind stopping by my apartment in the next ten minutes? Jormungand is concerned about Darcy's living situation."

"Certainly Captain."

"Thank you Jarvis."

Jormungand smiled at the way Steve spoke to the AI. It was clear that he was basically another member of the Avengers by now.

"Excuse me, Captain, Jormungand."

"Yes, Jarvis?" Steve looked at the ceiling again.

"Miss Potts would be very happy to meet Jormungand at your apartment. She asks whether you have any coffee there."

"Ah, no, Jarvis, I'm sorry I don't."

Another pause. "That is fine Captain, Miss Potts will bring her own. She will meet you there presently."

"Thank you." Steve looked at Jormungand, a little embarrassed. "Man, there's so much to learn these days, how have you coped over the years?"

Jormungand sighed and leaned his head against the wall, thinking of all the years he'd spent on this planet. "Well I never went to sleep for forty years, so I've never had to adjust that way. There are definitely some things I miss though, like that Italian place, what was it, Tony Sorci's? That was the shit."

Steve's eyes lit up at the mention of one of his favourite neighbourhood pizza joints from his Brooklyn days. He gave a sad smile, full of memories. "Yeah, I mean, I find there have been some pretty great moves forward though." His eyes grew distant and close all the same and Jormungand somehow knew exactly what he was thinking. No, it hadn't been easy liking boys back in the day. He gave him an understanding look back, and worried at his lip with his teeth. The door dinged at the residential level and Steve ushered him out with a soft hand on his back, sending a tiny thrill down Jormungand's spine from where the soldier's calloused thumb rested.

Pepper was waiting at Steve's door and Jormungand lit up, she sure was a foxy lady. In the sharp, cunning meaning of the word. She smiled back. "Jormungand, it's good to see you looking a little less beat up today." She held out a hand, because she was totally a professional, hand shaking kind of gal. He might have swooned a little. Her strawberry blonde hair was perfect, brushing the shoulders of her perfectly sexy-but-at-the-same-time-presentable power suit, complete with exquisite Jimmy Choos. Jormungand didn't often allow himself to feel under dressed, wearing whatever he wished, which at that point was a pair of worn high waisted jeans from the eighties and a t-shirt he had bought in a tiny surf shop somewhere in California in 1995. He currently wasn't even wearing shoes. Pepper Pots made him feel a little underdressed, but he sort of loved it. Like, _Hell yeah, she's the queen, she should be way better dressed than me, even though I'm technically royalty_. He shook himself out of his wardrobe trance.

He ducked his head, running his hand though his hair, which he hadn't bothered plaiting that morning in all the fuss. "Yeah, though I admit I'm looking forward to a little more rest." He smiled. Steve opened his door, they all entered his place and oh wasn't it adorable.

Pepper stepped in. Looking a tiny bit like a high end real estate agent. "Actually I'm really glad that we're meeting here, because you can see how we totally design each place according to each person's tastes."

Jormungand took it in. You couldn't say that the place was _straight_ out of the forties, because that wasn't true. Sure, he had a juke box in the corner, next to a pinball machine, and a few things here and there, including some cuuuute pin up posters- he even spotted some cheeky boy pin up posters which was totally hot and Jormungand was pleasantly surprised at the Captain's brazen display of homoerotica, no matter how harmless it was- but the whole feel was warm and sort of nostalgic in a comforting kind of way. It was totally tasteful. He couldn't keep the smile from his face if he tried.

Pepper lead the way to Steve's natural coloured leather couch, a gorgeous, butter soft perfectly aged thing which completely added to the relaxed feel of the place. She powered up her tablet, which had pinterest open. She smiled a little conspiratorially. "I found her pinterest account, so thankfully we have something to work with. She looked to where Steve's balcony was, a slick wall of glass including a sliding door hidden seamlessly within the window. "I feel like Stark tower is slightly too corporate for her tastes. From what I can see, she'd prefer a sort of mix between Manhattan loft, Brooklyn factory space and a bedroom from an eighties romance film."

Jormungand nodded, grinning "So basically the apartment from Flash dance then?" Pepper laughed her perfect, tinkling laugh and Steve looked adorably confused. "Darling you'll love it, it's like an updated version of your lovely pin up girls, complete with ballet dancing and welding on the side."

Pepper smiled "And a cute dog too."

Steve laughed and they all bent over pepper's tablet. "So I was thinking that she could have another window, like a partition a few yards in, some factory windows. And she can keep her plants in there and have a little bench for all of her witchy things, because Tony will insist she moves it soon and she'll probably want that separate to the kitchen. Would you be able to give us the necessary specifications for such a place?"

Jormungand may have had a little tear in his eye as he nodded. Pepper had some plans already drawn up and he had to admit they were pretty perfect. It was a little bit loft-like, but had a large kitchen and entertaining area, and a separate bedroom and ensuite bathroom. There were massive walls to hang her art collection and a corner for her instruments. There were a lot of aspects to Darcy which she never really talked about, but the girl was wildly talented. Anyone who spent five minutes in her home could tell that. "Pepper! I mean, I couldn't tell you for sure but I feel like this is perfect. I think she'll love it. Oh, fuck knew you'd be amazing at this!"

The lady had the grace to look relieved. Steve got up to put the kettle on, throwing a "Tea, anyone?" over his shoulder. Jormungand nodded gratefully.

"Actually Jormungand I need your help with the more difficult challenge." Jormungand quirked his eyebrow. "We're getting an apartment ready for your father. I can tell that he would have exacting tastes, but ... I'm not sure what they are. Thor mentioned books, and curtains and a fire pit. I mean in Asgard his bed is apparently shaped like a longboat! We may have money, but we could never reach the level of ... grandeur that he is used to."

Jormungand gave her an open smile, so touched that she was this concerned about his father's happiness. "My father is a scholar. He is... really rather eclectic in his tastes. He lived in the palace in the Golden City but he also happily lived in a tent with us in Muspellheim Ah- very similar to the Mongolian ger, actually. Rather strange, that coincidence- and he was happy enough on hunting trips with Thor and Sif in his youth." Jormungand smiled cheekily "Though that might have more to do with Sif sneaking into his tent at night than anything else." Pepper giggled. "But you get my point. He is totally able to live simply, though he does appreciate aesthetic functionality and efficient design, high quality craftsmanship. I would look to the Japanese and the Scandinavian design schools for him I rather think. Actually, I saw this one place one time. He took the tablet she offered and went hunting. Thankfully he found it rather quickly. The design was full of bespoke wooden furniture built into the space, with walls and walls of shelves made from the same material.

"Oh Jormungand this is gorgeous. You really think he could be happy in a place like this?"

The Silver Son nodded. "Lots of space for books and arcane objects? I really think so."

"Thank you, I'll call these architects right away." She rose gracefully, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. He gave her a somewhat watery grin, which he tried to hide under his lashes. Oh, he was such a sentimental fool.

"No, thank you. You have no idea how much it means for the old man to be welcome someplace. It's... amazing." He squeezed her hand and she gave him a dazzling smile.

"Oh Jormungand don't you know? We're all a bunch of rejects and misfits here. He'll settle right in eventually, just you wait. We'll all be dreading the dreadful pranks that he pulls with Tony and Bruce will try to get meditation techniques out of him and Darcy will have him reading Harry Potter novels and making Parks and Rec references."

Steve laughed and she disappeared out the door, rushing to another meeting. Jormungand wiped at his leaking eyes subtly as Steve brought him a mug of tea and a bacon and tomato sandwich. "Thank you lovely. Now Steve, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" the super soldier sank into the comfortable couch and looked completely cuddlable. Jormungand restrained himself like a hero and only settled back into his own side of the couch crossing one long leg over the other. Steve watched the movement before meeting his eyes. Jormy held his gaze before taking a sip of tea. "Mmmmm, this is good."

"Yeah, Jarvis orders me this brand, it's probably really expensive but I like it. You know, alcohol doesn't really do anything for me so I have to find other little pleasures."

Jormungand smiled at that. "Yeah, I hear you. If my delightful sister didn't keep me in Muspelheim's finest, I don't know what I'd do. Hey maybe you should try some, it might get you somewhere."

Steve perked up. "Yeah, that would be amazing. I mean, it's not like I'm desperate or anything but it kind of blows when everyone else is loosening up and all you have is tea."

Jormungand smiled, "Yes, it's nice to have the option."

Steve nodded. "Exactly. Hey, uh, so Musblehime is where you were born?"

He sighed, oh, those tears might not be going anyway after all. "Yeah, our mother was chieftan of a fairly large tribe. It's an incredible culture actually. Really different from anywhere else, which is how my father met my mother in the first place. He wanted to study them." Steve didn't respond, just waited patiently while Jormy took another sip of his tea. "Ah, but that is a story for another time, a sordid affair full of controversy and midnight trysts in magical places." He waggled his eyebrows. "I'll tell it to you by candlelight while we drink my sister's booze some day, but I can tell you of the place right now if you like." Steve smiled at his antics and took a bight out of his own giant sandwich. "Muspellheim is rather hot. It has two suns and four moons, so it has very long, hot days, though because of its odd rotation there are parts of it which are far cooler but housing several volcanoes. A landscape much like Earth's Iceland. And it is in _these_ regions that the dragons live. They love the fire, you understand, and thrive in the sulphuric atmosphere. They sort of own that territory, and then the people of Muspellheim, the fire Giants, roam most of the rest of it. The culture is a matriarchal society, but not only that, the women roam, and war and trade horses, while their husbands and sons live in quaint little villages and farm the land in a mild environment by the sea. The menfolk also fish extensively, owning boats and nets. So we see it as the Men being from the ocean and loathe to be parted from it while the women are untameable wild things, unable to be tied down and like to travel all over the world. The two groups meet a handful of times a year, to see each other and, you know." He raised his eyebrows and smiled cheekily again. Steve was an excellent student; despite having destroyed his sandwich in the time Jormungand was speaking, reminding him that he had a tasty morsel of his own. He bit into the sandwich happily while Steve absorbed what he'd said.

"So. Only a few times a year. What if they're in love?"

Jormungand smiled. "You must remember that we're a very long lived people, so the time isn't as desperately short as it is for a human. And we are a fierce independent kind of people. We love passionately, sure, but it is not only a person that we love. The men are as in love with the ocean as they are with their women, and ironically the ocean is just as unknowable, untameable as their mates. The women would only wither away if they had to stay at home in a village and so they ride and they hunt and they war. It is in their blood, like fire in their veins. And there is the troll problem."

"The... troll problem?"

"Yeah," Jormungand stretched his legs and sipped his tea. It really was excellent tea; he'd have to ask JARVIS about it. "There are trolls on Muspellheim also. They travelled there some millennia ago from Alfhiem and have been trying to take the land ever since. The woman fiercely work to stop that from happening."

"And the men? They don't?"

He laughed, "Pretty crazy, from a patriarchal point of view isn't it? I mean they can totally fight. They can defend their villages and livestock most of the time. But ... I don't know if you've noticed, but Fenrir and I are a little quieter of spirit than that spitfire we call sister."

Steve nodded slowly, absorbing the information certain things clicking into place. "And you guys have a farm?"

Jormungand smiled, seeing his beloved home in his mind's eye. "We do. I mean don't get me wrong, we have been caught up in _so_ many of Earth's wars over the years. You know I saw you once, during the war."

This brought him to a stop. "Really? Which ... ah...side were you fighting with?"

Jormungand tipped his head back, remembering... remembering the horror. "The RAF, speaking of spitfires. Fenrir and I both signed up, seeing as we were quite proficient at driving spaceships it seemed like the best place to help out. I wish I hadn't, I- we shouldn't have. We should have slipped out of the country using Fenrir's magic and gone to Iceland, or an island off of Norway. But we didn't. Beautiful Germany had gone so wrong. We found out about what was going on earlier than most and we couldn't bring ourselves to turn away, abandon our friends and neighbours...I – I thought of going AWOL so many times." Steve was silent and held perfectly still; sensing a story that needed to be told, bless his heart. "It is a perfectly atrocious way to do war, don't you think? I mean I guess it's all you know but I can see why other places in the nine realms, warriors like Sif stick to their swords and their shields. I mean, it is still war, still grizzly, murderous and hateful but you have to look at your enemy in the eye. You have to see whose life you are ruining, ending. Instead of... dropping bombs in the middle of civilian areas. Where children..." Jormungand collected himself. "Anyway, Fenrir crashed in the middle of occupied France and then remained and worked with the resistance. I was graciously allowed to move my aid to the medical side of things, and though it was still thoroughly awful, I survived. Soul somehow intact. Fenrir returned, further subdued, though I didn't think it possible at the time. And we moved to New York State, a little plot of land where we lived in a barn and got some horses and eventually expanded it into what it is today." He smiled fondly. "It really is gorgeous Steven. We grow so many types of roses and dahlias and poppies and tulips. The most beautiful peonies. You should come visit some time."

Steve's smile lit up his face. "Yeah, it sure sounds like someplace I'd love to see." Jormungand hummed and sipped at his tea sleepily, his fatigue suddenly returning tenfold. "Hey, sorry pal, I have kept you up. Here." He rose from the couch and Jormy followed him into a large bedroom with a solid looking bed. Super humans needed bespoke furniture, he guessed. "Do you need to borrow any clothes or shower or anything? The sheets are fresh."

Jormungand gave him a grateful smile. "No, that won't be necessary. Is that window- Do you have a blind?" Steve turned and found a switch by the bedside and clicked it, a beautifully translucent blind automatically moving down to bring the room into cool shadow. "Sweet."

"Anything else?" Steve was about half a meter away and Jormungand could think easily of ten other things he would like form the Captain, but he shook his head.

"No, thank you ever so much."

Steve smiled in the half light and surprised him by reaching up and stealing a kiss on the lips. Jormungand responded slowly, smiling into Steve's mouth and moving his hand to cup the back of his head and Steve opened his mouth ever so slightly, sweetly nibbling the other's lips while moving his hands to the small of Jormy's back, stroking with his thumbs. Jormungand closed his eyes, simply enjoying the feel of lips, hands, breath. That was enough, for now, and he pulled away softly with a little sigh. Steve smiled, slightly nervous "Was that OK? I just... you're so beautiful in this light."

Jormungand bit his own lip and he knew his eyes said it all but he said it anyway. "It was more than alright. It was perfect." He gave the super soldier one last soft peck and made sure his fingers wove through a little of Steve's hair as he brought his hand away. Steve looked at him from under his lashes as he reluctantly removed his hands from Jormy's waist.

"Perfect. Alright, I'll ah, probably be working on some drawings in the other room if that's OK."

"Hey this is your place, do whatever."

"Swell. I'll see you later then. Sleep well."

"I will. Hey- do good drawing." He gave a silver wink.

Steve chuckled as he slipped out the door. "Sure. I'll try."

"Hey." Jormungand had an idea. "No pressure, but what do you think about maybe drawing something awesome for the Little Witch when she gets her new place? Consider it a commission, I'll pay whatever."

Steve thought for a moment. "Darcy? Sure. Got anything in mind?"

He pondered. "She has a lot of prints, a lot of photos of mountains, oceans... band posters, movie posters, but maybe something that represents how much we all love her. Something that is ... you know?"

Steve bit his lip, eyes narrowed... "I think so. I'll see what I can come up with." He turned and softly closed the door and Jormungand smiled a little smile to himself, before shedding his clothes and burrowing into covers that smelled pleasantly of Steve and freshly laundered linen. He dreamed of the ocean, which he really missed and would have to visit soon, and just like every time he closed his eyes, he saw dragons...

...

Sif Stood in her quarters in Asgard staring at nothing in particular, the golden light of sunset leaned in from where she had her balcony windows open, overlooking the ocean. Standing there as she had so many times before, she barely recognised herself. After fifteen hundred years of being alive it had only taken a handful of months to change her, The Lady Sif, so constant and unchanging. She shivered in the golden light. It was like she was in a new skin, as yet unfamiliar. The Allfather had asked her whether she wanted to be reassigned back to the Golden City and she had refused. And why? She had nothing for her on Midgard, her relationship with Natasha had ended the moment she placed a blade at the Prince's throat. But she had still refused. Her eyes fell to the bracelet she still wore around her bicep. A gift from the queen. The magic linking her to the Prince was gone, yet she wore it still. She growled, balling her hands, remembering laughing green eyes, remembering how frail he had felt under her hands as she had inspected his neck. It could not be. She could not be so stupid... and yet she cared for him, that was no secret. Oh, but they had been friends for so long. She shook her head. There would be time to think on such things later. Or never, she wouldn't mind. Hogan knocked at her door. Time to go. She turned to her quarters, wondering when next she would be here. She checked her magical pack. In it she had placed some more weaponry and a few books for the Second Prince. She also reluctant for the sentimentality, decided to bring her few objects from her mother, a blanket and a locket. Hogan cleared his throat. Sif nodded. Yes, time to go.

The rainbow bridge gleaned in the sunset as they rode to the bifrost. Her beloved horse was very upset they had spent so little time together. She kissed his nose, feeling much the same. Heimdall gave no comment as the two warriors stepped up to return to New York, though he might have looked at Hogan askance, which Sif found odd. They only nodded their readiness and were away, riding the rainbow bridge to Midgard.

 _ **A tiny note on the use of 'bitch' in my fics. It may not be obvious, but I just wanted to point out that it is only ever used in respect of the woman described, even if, at that point the person using it is grumpy, like**_ _ **Jormungand in this chapter, he still has a lot of respect for Natasha, as a woman who isn't going to let anyone get in the way of what she intends to do. Anyway, just wanted to point that out.**_


	12. Epilogue

_**this is the place Jormy showed Pepper in the previous chapter. for Loki's place though imagine something similar but with black where it is white and darker stained wood. Also this place is called the Pirate Bay House which is awesome.**_

Loki was in the bedroom of his new chambers, the place still smelling of freshly milled wood and that other unnameable smell of newness. Maybe it was the subconscious giving substance to the potential of the place, or the lack of stories gone before. He stared at the ceiling above him, painted the deepest of blues with a stylized star chart gilded in gold in minute detail, currently glittering rather prettily in the mage lights he had summoned. Every part of this abode was chosen carefully, the furniture made to accommodate his size and strength, but crafted of a fine and deliberate aesthetic. Every available wall space seemed to have shelves of varying sizes, ready to accommodate any books he could wish to keep here. This room held some hidden wardrobes which held only the pyjamas he had been gifted when he came to this realm and a few choice pieces of clothing that Sif had thoughtfully brought for him on their journey across the galaxy. There was a study; complete with a shelf full of empty journals should he need them, as well as some Midgardian technology he hadn't looked at yet. The study had a hidden door which lead through to a sorcerer's room, and he had no idea how Lady Pepper had found out the specifications for it but it was perfectly functional for safe spell casting.

He had taken a strange liking to the woman who controlled the Man of Iron, Pepper Potts. The Avengers, for all of their stupidity had accidentally found themselves inundated with that rare creature, a woman who knew their own power and used it to its full potential. It was possibly the only reason the venture was still afloat. The Spider was an obvious case, having been trained to use her body as a weapon. But then there was the Lady Potts, who ran this tower and Stark's large financial operation and also kept that irritating man in check. She was a force to be reckoned with. Then there was Jane, the intelligent woman who kept working at her own bifrost theories despite being ostracised by the other experts in her community. She believed in her own calculations and what she had seen, and she was proved right of course. She may have terrible taste in men, but he respected her for her wits and tenacity. And then there was Darcy, darling of the Avengers tower. She definitely knew what she was doing, even though she was so young, and Loki found himself entirely unable to dislike her. If he didn't know better, he'd think himself uttery bespelled.

He thought of the last few days, the child becoming the victim and patient instead of the healer. They still had no answer as to where the assailants were coming from, and Darcy was currently residing in the apartments next to him for her safety. She had gained some things in her new abode, but he could tell that she had also suffered a loss. From what he could tell she had enjoyed living separate to the others, with the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Loki understood. One was never alone in this tower, with a spirit in the walls who had ears and eyes in every room, much as one was rarely alone in Asgard, with the Einherjar at every door and servants waiting in every room. Of course one grew used to it. Darcy, however, had never had servants, and was still not accustomed to having warriors telling her what to do for her own safety. She had been greatly offended that Barton and the Spider had visited her dwelling while she was injured, not understanding that that was the way of it with the warrior caste. They tended to be over eager when it came to protecting those they felt were under their jurisdiction. As far as he understood, she had also been upset that he and Jormungand had cast the curse of sleeping beauty on her. She had settled when she found out it was the very same one that Sif had administered to himself before she ran all over the place carrying him on her back like a sack of grain. Still, she had given them a lecture on consent. He would have been affronted but he had spent the better part of a century with the women of Muspellheim, the most independent and wild of whom was his love, Angrboda. So he had found himself in the strange position of bowing his head and asking for Darcy's forgiveness. Darcy, the little witch. A child. He paused. He had been worried about her interest in Fenrir, who of all his children had the most of the Fire giant in his temperament, if not his magic. Perhaps the headstrong girl wasn't as ridiculous a choice after all. From what he had been told she had been quite happy to take everything slowly, not trying to push him into anything or control the Wolf of Midgard. He smiled faintly, liking the idea of their paring much more on reflection. A knock at his door brought him out of his musings.

He opened his heavy door to see the little witch herself holding a collection of white cartons smelling of baked fish. He looked at her with a look of mild bewilderment. "Oh hey neighbour, I figured that now that you're all better we can try some sold food! Are you maybe a little bit hungry?"

He hadn't thought about it, but since Fenrir had returned home nothing had passed his lips. "Perhaps I am. Please, come in."

He flicked his hand and mage lights lit up the room designated for dining. He had been a little nonplussed at the kitchen and dining area in his rooms, never having seen such a thing before. They had always been catered to in the palace, and he knew most of the residents in the tower ate from the main kitchens and the larger dining hall. Lady Pepper had explained that sometimes you want to eat something made by your own hands, and it is good to have the option. Loki had thought about it, and had to agree. He had cooked with the nomads, and on hunting trips, and it was true of course, sometimes it was nice to have control of your own meal, to create it from scratch. Fenrir was full of such skills and seemed to enjoy it. Darcy placed her various cartons on the table, moving into the kitchen and looking lost. The benches and cupboards were too high for her, having been built to suit Aesir dimensions, and she looked even more tiny than usual. "Uh, do you have dining plates and cutlery?"

Loki nodded. Pepper had shown him the placement of these things. He opened a cupboard and reached for two plates, and reached for some glass vessels for drinking from. He was grateful that he was well used to handling fragile objects and wondered how many of the delicate vessels Thor had broken in his time on Midgard. Darcy had found food eating utensils in their home in a drawer, and they moved over to the table and the mysterious white containers.

Darcy pulled a glass bottle out of the satchel she was wearing on her back. She opened it and he smelled the refreshingly familiar scent of wine. "So Fen told me you like wine and Tony recommended this one. Let me know if you like it and we'll let JARVIS know so we can get more." Then she winked. "Let me know if you don't like it and we'll tell JARVIS so that he can warn us if we ever try to serve it to you again." Loki smiled. Darcy fussed for a moment, opening the various containers revealing two pink fish and an array of different cooked vegetables, some of which were plain, and others covered in strong smelling sauces. "I ordered this from a local restaurant. Fen mentioned seafood was a good starting point so I went for salmon because it's my favourite."

Loki looked it over and found that he did in fact feel an appetite blooming at the meal spread before him. "Thank you Darcy, this is much appreciated. But aren't you unwell? You should be being waited on yourself, not fussing over me."

Darcy clicked her tongue. "So that just means we both need to eat, which is why we're eating together. I had to eat anyway so...and you need to put some weight on. Now that all your wounds are healed you can get your sexy world destroying bod back."

He smiled. "I was rather hoping that wouldn't be in my near future. I was hoping for a break."

"A break? For the god of mischief? Huh. Well, there is a long way before you'll be back to full world exploding health so there's time to think about it."

His smile faded as he thought about that. He guessed there was time. For so long there had been a plan. For so long those plans had centered on things ending. With all that his favourite people had done to bring him back from near death he didn't think that his penchant for nihilism would have any leeway. Now that his strength was returning he had been wondering more about the future, what he should do with his time on Midgard. He wished to spend as much time as he could with his family of course but his boys had their farm and Hel was... well, Hel. For the first time in centuries, he had all the time in the world to spend in books. At this point in time he wasn't under the direct control of the Allfather. A smile came unbidden to his lips and he leaned forward. "Lady Darcy, I was wondering, do you have any recommendations for reading?"

Darcy's face lit up. "Well actually that was the other reason I came." She wiped her hands on her napkin and turned back to her pack. She pulled out a pile of thin books with brightly coloured illustrations. "So I've noticed that among the various things we have in common, there is one prominent one." She gave him a very naughty smile. "Our taste for strong warrior women."

Surprised, Loki burst out laughing. It was true, he wouldn't deny it. She laughed with him for a while, and took a small bite of her dinner. He leveled a mockingly accusatory glare at her. "This is true, you have me there. So what are these books you have brought for me? Some sort of sordid literature? It's not my first choice though I suppose it could be entertaining."

Darcy's crooked smile was truly wonderful. Loki enjoyed the dry humour that many on Midgard owned. It was a relief next to Volstagg and Fandral's more theatrical brand of joke. "No, though if you're looking for that kind of thing... never mind. Anyway these are my beloved Wonder Women comics. Hel told me a tiny bit about her mom and Wonder Women is from a similar kind of background, but becomes a super hero. Like the Avengers, but fictional! Now I have to point out that the comic book is not the height of literature here. Please don't judge all of humanity on these! They are a form of popular culture, which is for the masses and super simplified for easy consumption, but they're entertaining! I'll get you some real books soon but these should be fun for now. Also, it probably doesn't need to be said because I don't really see you ever ruining a book but it took me so long to collect these- they're treasured possessions if you know what I mean."

Loki gave Darcy a grateful smile and put a hand to his heart. "Thank you ever so much Lady, I will treat them as such."

She smiled and they both went back to their meals. That was not all the girl had in store for the prince. At the end of the meal, she pulled out a pink box tied with a ribbon. "Now I'll buy you a proper house warming present soon but I also got some information on you and so I got JARVIS to order these bad boys in for me."

She handed Loki the box and he looked at her, bewildered once more. He untied the blue ribbon and opened the lid to reveal two perfect strawberry tarts, beautifully made. Sprinkled in gold and burnt sugar they looked good enough to be served in Valhalla, just the smell alone was enough to make his eyes water. Loki stared at them in disbelief. How had she known? She yawned theatrically and rose. "So I hate to eat and run but I'm still healing and I need to sleep. She looked at all the boxes on the table. "Did you know how to use the bins and stuff here?"

He nodded, still a little off balance "Yes, please darling, you go rest; I can take care of this. He clicked his fingers crisply and the mess was gone into the right waste containers. She smiled sweetly. "Well this was really nice, thanks for being up for it, Loki." He stood and bowed his head.

"Thank you Lady, you are an extremely attentive healer and I am immensely grateful for your gifts."

She gave him a bright smile and punched him in the arm. "You enjoy those tarts OK? I want to see you bulking up." She picked up her pack and was gone.

Loki was still sitting at his table, staring at the tarts when Sif entered ten minutes later, not bothering to knock. She came to stand at the opposite end of his table and neither said anything for a moment, just exchanging glances. They had not had a decent conversation since she had seen him sitting on the throne of Asgard four years ago. Neither had been ready yet, to start the work that would repair the bridges to the chasm that had opened between them. After a while he blinked once, slowly, and cleared his throat. "Lady Sif, what a lovely surprise, you came at the perfect time, actually. Would you care for a tart?" he held up the box, his hand shaking ever so slightly.

She placed the flat of each hand on the table before her and leaned forward. "First, I would like you to ask me the question."

Loki swallowed. "Which question was that? After all my years of study I find there are still so many questions I would love the answer to."

"Do not play your games with me this night Silvertongue."

Loki placed the box back on the table and stared at it. Such an innocent gift, the child could not have known what they represented to him, to them. He saw her nostrils flare ever so slightly as she inhaled the familiar scent. One of the scents of their friendship, a symbol more than nine nine centuries old. The pastries reminded him of the dream he'd had the other night, of a younger Sif, and a younger Loki, so fearful and confused. Why didn't Odin tell him sooner. He closed his eyes. The evening had been so pleasant just a few moments ago. His friendship with Sif raced though his mind. The pranks, the haircut, the stolen kisses, and then the impassioned nights, discovering the secrets of each other's bodies. The fights so heated they had drawn each other's blood. The cold empty bed after it was over. The reckless quests. Sigyn. Angrboda. The children. Their discovery. The prophecy. The fallout. Odin's punishments, each more harsh than the last. Angrboda's death, and the emptiness... Jottenheim. Thor's banishment. The discovery. The fall. Thanos... He looked up at Sif, not sure how long had passed. "Why Thor? Why wasn't it you came to fetch me on Midgard? It was always you who came for me before! You would have had a plan. You would have ... Why didn't you come?"

Sif wilted, the arms supporting her turning to liquid as she collapsed in to the chair. She laid her forehead on the table as if gaining strength from it. Finally she drew herself up, her spine stiffening to its usual posture, her eyes blazing. She looked him in the eye. "I believed you dead until the moment Thor dragged you back in chains. I did not know. I suspect the Allfather meant for it to happen that way. He also expressly banned me to visit you in the prisons. Loki please forgive me. If I had just noticed how—how much you wanted to be gone from this world... I completely misread you. I should have asked in the throne room we ... could have come up with a plan! We could have..." Her hands fisted on the table and she once again stared at the wood grain before her.

He swallowed. His words came out quiet, barely louder than a whisper. "It wouldn't have worked Sif. I mean I had a plan. It would have landed Thor on the throne as a benevolent and wise ruler, a king worthy of the nine realms." He closed his eyes. "When Odin told me the truth... Everything broke. The bottom fell out of my world. And he fell into the Odinsleep, and I—I was unhinged, completely unbalanced and so filled with rage. I hated Thor. I hated Asgard. But I hated my very existence more. I figured I was a monster, the son of a monster, and so I would play my role. It's so funny how people always think I'm lying when I'm speaking the truth and speaking truth when in fact I'm lying. But it mattered little. Thor, the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three would save the day and the realm would have a victorious hero once more, his reign would have a spectacular start and I...I wouldn't have to bear the pain anymore."

A groan like one of physical pain came from Sif. An unusual sound as she was ever a stoic patient, baring all of her wounds in silence. He flicked his eyes upwards to see her looking at him with actual tears running down her cheeks. "You idiot." She said, her voice rough but as full of derision as ever when she loosed those oft spoken words.

He swallowed and smiled self depreciatingly. "They're not wrong, you know, Anthony, Barton and The Spider. I find that I am quite mad."

She snorted in her own unladylike manner glared at him. "Nothing you can't defeat Loki."

He sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. "No I guess not." His eyes fell to the comic books Darcy had left behind, at his new rooms. "Sif." She looked at him. "I haven't thanked you for ..."

Sif grimaced and reached for a tart, the smell finally getting to her. "I admit that when Hel came to my chambers with her request I was fairly set on finding you so that I could either beat you further or put my sword in your belly. But as I traveled I had a lot of time to think. And I spent a lot of time outside of the nine, away from Asgard and the Allfather." She looked down at the tart and nibbled at the edge. "Well, and I had put so much effort into saving your life it would be rather silly of me to undo all of that good work."

Loki grinned and took a bite of his own tart. He had ever enjoyed vexing Sif. He was glad he even managed to do it while bespelled with an ancient curse that kept him from even breathing. He paused. "Do you know what the name of the potion you administered to me was?"

Sif paused with the tart halfway to her mouth. It was, of course, mostly gone. "No, why would I?"

Loki grinned cheekily. "It was the curse of the sleeping beauty." He leaned forward, a smug look on his face. "It follows then -according to ancient Midgardian tradition- that you are my knight in shining armour."

Sif snorted and threw the closest object to hand at his head. It was the wine bottle. Loki laughed and caught it before it broke and damaged his new furniture. He had missed this, though he would never admit it out loud. "It's good to see you Sif." He reiterated the sentiment he had used a little while ago, that time with her blade to his throat.

They both smiled at each other shyly. Sif got up quickly, having little stomach for sentiment. "Well I should take my leave of you, it has been a long few days."

Loki paused. "I forgot to ask, how was Asgard?" As if he would have mentioned it sooner.

She frowned. "Different. Or at least I'm- different." Her eyebrows creased. Sif was ever constant, unchanging as the world moved around her. She was not used to change, but she would get there, and doubtless be made ever more unstoppable for it.

"I feel as though the nine realms and beyond will be the richer for it."

Sif paused, then nodded. "I hope so."

"If it helps, I have changed in the last few days also. It is the way of mortals, I think."

"Yes, I guess so."

Loki smiled at her. "Go get some sleep, Sif."

She nodded. And without anything further, she turned for the door, closing it softly behind her. Loki looked down at the last bite of tart in his hand. He smiled fondly. That little witch had some magic.


End file.
